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LIFE AND LETTERS
OF
FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT
Life and Letters
of
Fenton John Anthony Hort
D.D., D.C.L., LL.D.
SOMETIME HULSBAN PROFESSOR AND LADY MARGARET'S READER
IN DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY OP CAMBRIDGE
BY HIS SON
ARTHUR FENTON HORT
LATE FELLOW OP TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE
' A life devoted to truth is a life of vanities abased and
ambitions forswoin.' — F. J. A. H.
VOL. II
JLonhon
MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd.
NEW YORK: MACMILLAN & CO.
1896
Aii rights restrutd
I
CONTENTS
CHAPTER VI
PACK
Cheltenham and the Alps . . . i
\ 1863-1865. Age 35-37.
CHAPTER VII
Last Years of Parish Work 52
1865-1872. Age 37-43-
CHAPTER VIII
Cambridge: College Lecturer . 172
1872-1878. Age 43-50.
CHAPTER IX
Cambridge: Hulsean Professor . .229
1878-1887. Age 50-59.
CHAPTER X
Cambridge: Lady Margaret Professor . 367
1887-1892. Age 59-64.
vi FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT
PAGE
Appendix I. Prayers and Hymns . .461
97
II. Memorial Meeting at Trinity College
Lodge .... 469
„ III. List of Printed Work 492
Index ...... 497
^
CHAPTER VI
CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS
i 1863-1865. Age 35.37.
The principal part of the years 1863-65, the period
during which Hort enjoyed enforced immunity from
parish work, was spent at Cheltenham. The summers,
like those of 1861 and 1862, were given to long Alpine
pilgrimages.
Fortunately for his own peace of mind, he was not
forbidden to work in these years of rest ; moderate
exercise of the brain was said to be good for him.
Indeed, at no time of his life is it conceivable that he
could have reconciled himself to complete holiday ; his
nerves and spirits would always have lost more than
they gained by absence of occupation. In the Alps,
the Greek Testament text was his principal work, at
which he always laboured systematically, as at a task
which might not be put aside for more inviting subjects.
In 1 864 a decided step forward was made ; when stay-
ing alone in the Mont Cenis region he finished a first
draft of the Introduction. Although not published in
this form, this Introduction was important, inasmuch
as the writing of it caused him to put before himself
the principles at which he and his collaborator had
VOL, II B
2 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
arrived in the first decade of their labours, and of which
some hints had already been given in correspondence,
and in reviews contributed to the Journal of Philology
(see p. 248). The publisher was not unnaturally
becoming a little restive ; he taunted Hort with
"preparing a text for the millennium folks," and
prophesied, with less exaggeration than he thought,
that the book would not see the light till about the
year 1890.
His residence at Cheltenham gained him several
new and valued friends, to some of whom he was
attracted by similar outdoor tastes ; chief of these was
the Rev. T. W. Norwood, now Rector of Wrenbury,
near Nantwich. With him and others he did much
botanical and geological work at Cheltenham, and
attended frequent meetings of literary and scientific
societies.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
EcKiNGTON House, Cheltenham,
Jcamary [9M] 1864.
. . . Altogether this has been an unsettled autumn. . . .
I cannot therefore say that I have done much steady work of
any kind. One hindrance I can but imperfectly regret, as it
is directly connected with health. Air and exercise are
everything to me, and ought to be so now, more especially
when I have left home for health. Cheltenham air itself is
not good ; so that it is very needful to be on the Cotswolds as
much as possible. The result is that by way of an object to
take me out I have fallen vigorously upon geology, and am
on the hills usually two whole days in each week, besides
frequent afternoons. Hence come considerable bags of
fossils, which have to be cleaned and put in order ; and all
takes time. However, the result is that I am able without
fatigue to walk a great deal more than when we came here in
AGE 35 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 3
September. I am much the same in other respects ; but all
this air and exercise must tell ultimately for good.
The geology here affords abundant employment. It takes
a long time to learn well even the more characteristic fossil
species, and there are innumerable others. Yet this is the
necessary foundation of any further worL Few spots, I
imagine, have been more examined than Leckhampton Hill ;
and yet it seems that only two or three of the most recent
lists can be in any way depended on. Faithful accuracy is as
rare here as in other departments. The amount of local
variation in the species found, and occasionally in the forms
of the same species, within a very few miles, is extremely
interesting. Of course it will be desirable to trace if possible
any connexion between such variations and the very con-
siderable variations of mineral character which occur in the
same bed within quite short distances. There is abundant
material for studying the reappearance, after an interval, of
kindred or representative forms, especially in the Brachiopoday
which are very abundant. Correlation with other places is an
end to be kept in view, but still a long way off. There are
great advantages here in the large extent of comparatively
undisturbed ground with a long succession of beds, almost
all more or less fossiliferous. And this comparative quies-
cence brings out only the more strikingly the entire absence
of uniformity on the small scale as well as on the large.
Thinning out is exemplified with great variety. There are
also a considerable number of petty faults, interesting in
themselves, and very useful in preserving specimens of beds
which would otherwise have been denuded. Mr. Hull of the
Ordnance Survey has done some good but limited work in
the Physical Geology of the district; but that particular
subject has otherwise been almost wholly neglected. At
present I am chiefly taken up with fossils and their positions.
Apart from any inferences, they are very captivating things,
EcMnodermata in particular; and our Urchins are just com-
mon enough and just rare enough to exercise a powerful
attraction.
I feel that you will read this with some impatience, and
say that this is not my proper work. You cannot think so
^
4 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
more strongly than I do ; but under present circumstances I
believe I am right in admitting it, not as work but as
medicine, or the unavoidable concomitant of medicine.
... By the way, Sir T. Phillipps has bought Lord North-
wick's great house and (formerly) picture gallery here, and is
moving his library, much of which has already come. I
must of course examine some of his biblical MSS. . . .
Renan I have not yet finished, short as it is ; so will say
nothing.
To THE Rev. Professor Lightfoot
EcKiNGTON House, Cheltenham,
January ittk^ 1864.
. . . Westcott has not written — or rather had not, for
he is probably writing this afternoon. But it is too bad
if he has led you to suppose that I am replacing theology
by geology, as I took some pains to prevent him from falling
into that natural delusion. Having left St Ippolyts in order
to get well, I am bound to make everything secondary to
health. Air and exercise must be first objects; and espe-
cially on the (Cotswold) hills, as Cheltenham is a relaxing
place, though I have no option but to live here for a good
part of the year. Now, human nature being what it is,
there can be no efficient course of hill-walks in winter
without an attractive object; and such an object is remark-
ably ready for pursuit here in the shape of very interesting
and diversified geology. One cannot do anything in it
without collecting, and the contents of one's bag require
cleaning and arranging; so that some time is taken up in
the house. That is the extent of my delinquencies. By way
of work I do nothing but St James and N. T. text It is
true I have had many interruptions this autumn, and just now
can do little from being taken up with accounts. (I have
nine treasurers' accounts, besides my own; and half an
hour's work at any of them harrows my brain into incipient
insanity.) But I keep work steadily before me, and am in-
terested in it beyond anything else every time that I am
able to touch it
AGE 35 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS S
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott^
Cheltenham, yaifi^rK 27M, 1864.
. . . My wish to see you at Cambridge is so strong that it
requires a considerable effort to look at your question quite
impartially. But I hope I have been able to do so pretty
nearly. . . .
If the claims of Harrow are great, those of Cambridge are
surely greater far. The number of men who study anything,
except as a matter of business, has already dwindled to a
mere remnant And of them how few are there who have
any strong interest in the great and abiding welfare of the
Church and the country. One hardly knows which is worse
represented there, Christianity or the love of truth at all hazards.
To go there would be not merely to transfer there your own
work, but to be one more rallying point for the work of
others, and it is only in the University that this multiplying
influence is to be found All this is irrespective of direct
agency upon the younger men. But indeed mere standard-
bearing is sorely needed. In the critical times that seem to
be coming you could act at Harrow only through books and
only with the force of truth and of your own name. At
Cambridge your modes of action would be infinite, and you
would rest on the strength of your position. ... It makes a
great difference having Lightfoot for a colleague. Each would
strengthen the other's hands, and diminish the sense of a
lonely uphill battle which otherwise might become too
oppressive.
Of 'clear duty' I dare not speak. To me most things
come in the shape of a conflict. Assuredly I could not con-
demn you were you to refuse to stand. But you will see
that on the whole, if you can discern your own way to it, I
do heartily wish that you may go to Cambridge. . . .
You will see I have written with entire unreserve, as if
1 Mr. Westcott was debating whether to stand for the Nonisian Pro-
fessorship of Divinity at Cambridge ; he eventually decided not to offer
himself.
6 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
you were a third person. I should not have known what
to say beyond commonplaces otherwise. I shall be most
anxious to hear your decision.
To THE Rev. Professor Lightfoot
EcKiNGTON House, Cheltenham,
February 13M, 1864.
. . . My own paper on ' Apostle,' so far as it bears on
Gal. i. 19, has long been written. We do not differ to any
important degree, the chief points being that I think St. Paul's
argument in this chapter excludes a lax use of the word here^
and that I think Barnabas' title is confined to that journey
and the special mission which originated it I doubt whether,
in the strict sense required by this chapter, St. Paul would
have called any one an Apostle besides the Twelve, St James,
and himself. I am glad to find that we concur in the inference
to be drawn from Rev. ii. 2, and in the necessary meaning of
* prophets ' in Ephesians. The patristic use I have but very
slightly studied.
To the Rev. Professor Lightfoot^
Cheltenham, March y^d^ 1864.
Agreeing with you entirely as to the duty of avoiding all
needless offence, I have yet a strong feeling that it will not be
possible for you to state the facts truly without the probability
of giving pain even to good people. As far as I can judge,
you have said nothing which it would be possible to soften
without suppressing what ought to be written. In fact you
seem to have steered yoiu: way very happily through a crowd
of shoals. It is very satisfactory to find that we take precisely
the same view of that meeting at Jerusalem and St Paul's
comments upon it.
James may, I think, be said to be progressing, but slowly,
slowly.
^ Lightfoot had sent Hort his Epistle to the Galatiam in proof.
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 7
To THE Rev. Professor Lightfoot
EcKiNGTON House, Cheltenham,
April z^thy 1864.
... I shall be glad to hear whether you think Syriac can
be profitably learned without a good preliminary study of
Hebrew. I have almost made up my mind to make either
Hebrew or Syriac my holiday task this year, and incline to
think Syriac the more useful. But of Hebrew I know only the
letters, a smattering of the grammar, and a very few words.
With great labour and loss of time I can make out any single
word or verse that I want to study, but only piecemeal.
Whenever I have leisure, I sit down to St. James, where I
now feel myself really afloat. Some sixty pages are actually
written.
To HIS Wife
LiMONE, May 31^/, 1864.
... I wish you could see the rocks here, they look as
if they must be full of everything ; they have so much more
interesting-looking vegetation than anything you have ever
seen. A great part is not in flower yet, and a great part is
the same thing over and over again, as the lavender which is
everywhere. But you would be delighted with the brilliance
of some of the things. ... I must get a sketch or two done
before leaving this ; but that always is a considerable mental
effort What I enjoy most is writing in the evening. I have
finished all that can be done without Fathers of the chapter
on the Jameses, and have written a good deal of a draft Intro-
duction to the text This interests me much, and it will
occupy a long time to finish. Whether Westcott accepts it or
not (though I quite hope he will, perhaps with a few changes),
I shall be very glad to have done it, as it compels me to work
out and clear my own ideas. The only objection to it is that the
excitement sometimes prevents my getting asleep at once ; but
this is a less evil than giving my brain trying work in the evening.
I am sorry to say I make very little progress with Italian ; I
do not feel able to apply to it as I should. Sartor Resartus
I greatly enjoy, yet alas ! it is about half through already.
8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
To HIS Wife
LiMOUK, /une ^rd, 1864.
. . . Now I must tell you about yesterday, for, in spite
of the rain, I went to bed in excellent spirits, and think of the
day with satisfaction. It occurred to me in the morning that
after all wet days out here were a great opportunity for work,
and that, if I had not all the books I could wish, I ought to
think what could be done, useful for home work, with those I
had, so as to save precious Cheltenham time First came a
letter from Margaret accompanied by one from Kate. So
after breakfast I wrote Margaret an answer. Then I shifted
the plants, and packed away such as were dry. Then I lay
on the sofa and read and marked a great piece of Clement.
Then I wrote a good piece of Introduction to the text. Then
I took my MS. book, and began entering important words and
references from Philo (one day before I had made a small
beginning), and completed all as far as I have read and marked
in this volume. Then, I think, dinner came. Then a good
piece of Shakspeare. Then a great deal more of Introduction.
Then I had three-quarters of an hour of extracting from Bruder
various facts about words used in St. James, St Peter, and St.
Jude. And so ended the day's work. A little Philo at night,
and some Bible complete the tale.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Hotel de la Poste, Monte Cenisio, presso
SUSA, lTALYf/UM€ l6M, 1 864.
My dear Ellerton — ^Your shot was either well aimed or
well ventured, for it hit me just twenty-five hours before I left
Limone. . . .
I left Dover duly May 13th with my father and mother,
and accompanied them to the Lyons station at Paris, where
we disceded that evening into separate waiting-rooms. At
8.40 my train started. By morning I was in Burgundy, and
then able to enjoy the scrap of Jura which the railway to
Geneva traverses, in its spring beauty. At Culoz the Victor
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 9
Emmanuel railway begins, you cross the Rhone, enter Savoy,
are carried past the pretty Lake of Bourget {vide G. Sand's
Mlie, la Quintime\ Aix-les- Bains, and Chambdry, into the
wide Gresivaudan or middle valley of the Isfere (where you
join company with Hannibal, who came up it from Grenoble) ;
and then turn aside in perpetuity up the narrower and winding
valley of the Arc, a series of pretty but hardly remarkable
Alpine glens, widening higher up into a great Alpine trough.
At S. Michel (12^) the railway stops at present, and you are
shifted into diligences, though four hours remain before you
reach the foot of the M. Cenis. Near Modane you pass the
tunnel's mouth and the accompanying works, but can see
little without stopping. It is certainly an odd figure of speech
calling it the Mt Cenis tunnel, except that the highways on
each side are in part identical. It is many miles off, separated
by a whole world of peaks and glaciers, culminating in Mt.
Ambin. At Lanslebourg the proper pass begins, a very mild
aflair on that side, requiring only two hours. From the top
a slight incline takes you on to the undulating plateau of the
Mt Cenis, full five miles long, in the midst of whicfii I am now
writing. ... I reached Turin at night Turin is a gay, clean,
bright, spacious city, completely modem in all its ways, full of
the stir which young Italy makes, and not giving signs of much
else. Next morning I was interested to see groups collected
round large placards announcing a public meeting of workmen
to vote thanks to England for the reception given to Garibaldi
The wording of the rather long address was singularly discreet and
otherwise admirable, both towards England and towards what-
ever is not Garibaldi in Italy. I heard nothing of the result
Among the popular caricatures was one of John Bull in com-
plete armour, vigorously riding a rocking-horse with his lance
in rest, and declaring that he was going to fight Prussia, and
Austria, and France, and Russia, and I know not what else
besides. Of course I saw very little to judge by, but ordinary
liberalism seemed the order of the day. The position of Turin
is very striking, though the clouds which hid most of the
mountains prevented my seeing it to advantage. I never
realised before the entire distinctness of Piedmont from Lom-
bardy j the whole land seems to belong to the Alps, plain and
10 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
all. They form the horizon (and a near one) on three sides,
and close on the fourth are the beautiful hills of Montserrat,
rising from the bank of the Po, with the Superga crowning
one of them. I wish the Superga were more easily accessible
to a single lazy and economical traveller ; for the view from
it must be a wonder of the world. Much of Monday and
Tuesday I spent in the University Library, investigating
biblical MSS., but without much ultimate fruit I was, how-
ever, glad to see St Columban's famous (Latin) Gospels,
unhappily now only a piece of St Matthew and St Mark, a
document in many points hardly less valuable, Latin though
it be, than the Vatican MS. itself. Tuesday evening I went
by rail to Cuneo in the S.W. comer of the plain, hoping to
get on to Limone by the Nice malkposU, There was how-
ever, or was said to be, no room, and I had to take a little
carriage. It was an enjoyable drive by moonlight up the
valley of the Vermenagna, but there the felicity ended, for, on
reaching Limone at 2 a.m., I had much difficulty in rousing
any of the household, and then found the house (for that
night) absolutely crammed. Two or three hours elapsed
before I was able to get anything to lie down upon. Next
day things mended, and I spent three very tolerable weeks
there, suffering much (especially at first) from the solitude,
which was all the worse from the want of complete privacy
when out of doors, the population being very dense. The
very rich flora was not well out yet, but I found enough
botanical employment, and once or twice had opportunities of
enjoying the earliest spring glory of Alpine turf, such as I had
never seen before; the plants were mostly familiar, but the
freshness and purity were a thing by themselves. The com-
monest shrub on the mountains thereabouts is lavender, of
course not yet in flower. . . . The air at Limone is very
good, but latterly it was not Alpine enough for me, and I was
glad to come on here. Tuesday week the 7th was the day,
and I simply retraced my steps, driving from station to station
at Turin. On the way there was an extraordinary burst of
hail, and one or two more of rain. The hail of either that or
a following day is said to have killed three men, and the
railway on the French side was abimt (that wonderful
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 11
word!) for some distance. Here I have mostly had bad
weather, some snow, much rain, much cloud, and very much
wind. At this moment it is howling so that I quite dread
going out, though the sun is shining through hazy cloud. The
little lake in front is very blue, and beyond it the cloud just
allows me to see the Little Mt Cenis, Hannibal's pass. In-
deed my window commands all the upper part of his route.
It has not yet been clear enough to go in search of 'the
plains of Italy.' The inn here is very tolerable, the flora
about the richest in the Alps, the air magnificent, and the
views not to be despised. If I can hold out, I think of
staying four weeks or a month from the day I came. But
there is always some risk of sudden flight from these places. . . .
Gladstone's speech ^ is much too long a business to enter on
here, besides I read it (just before starting) very hastily, and
have not seen his explanation. I confess it did annoy me
extremely. That something needs saying on that side just
now, I can well believe; but he seemed to me to say just
that which should not be said. An appeal to * natural rights '
is not what we expect just now from a serious English states-
man ; we ought to have done with those rags of Rousseau. . . .
Kindest regards to your wife and all your party. Say any-
thing you like for me to Frank.^ With the greatest wish, I
have always extreme difficulty in finding a message to send
to children. — Always, my dear Ellerton, affectionately yours,
Fenton J. A. HORT.
To HIS Wife
M. Cmis, /une 17M, 1864.
. . . To-day's post has brought an answer at last from
Westcott. He has had a boy very ill in his house, which has
much occupied him. (It would be worth while being a boy
ill in his house, to be tended by him !)...! forget whether I
mentioned to you my suspicion that Mr. Scrivener's note
^ Probably that on the motion to reduce the qualification for the
borough franchise to a rental of £6, The speech in question was thought
to mark Mr. Gladstone's final adhesion to the party of Reform.
* Mr. Ellerton's eldest son and Hort*s godson.
12 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
meant to hint at a rival N. T. text by himself. I wrote about
this (among other things to Westcott), and suggested it as a
reason for our resolutely finishing at once. I take his present
letter as virtually an assent Indeed he seems more sanguine
than I am as to rapid completion. He suggests our printing
first a text without the Appendix, which he thinks will require
ages to prepare. I doubt this, but it makes no difference as
to our work or printing in the first instance. He talks of our
keeping pace with the printers ! I think so too, when once
a good beginning has been made ; and for several reasons all
or nearly all of the First Three Gospels must I think be ready
before the printing begins; and this would give us a good
start But if Westcott will work in earnest this summer, I
would give myself wholly to it on my return ; and I see not
why the printing should not begin in the spring, or barely
possibly sooner. The very idea makes one ready to dance.
I must write to him about it again in a day or two that he
may take books with him. I much regret now not having
brought with me at least the fat Tischendorf and the two lean
quartos of Tregelles.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
M. CRfiis,/um 27M, 1864.
. . . How goes on Lightfoot's Galatians? He was far
advanced in the press when I left England, but neither before
nor since has it been possible to extract a line firom him. Is
he expecting to publish before the autumn ? I ask, because,
unless he objects, it seems to me desirable that we should
announce our own parts on the flyleaf. There are obvious
reasons why the first instalment of the scheme should not
appear without our being all committed, and mutual independ-
ence may yet be signified. . . . As a matter of fact, I believe
I shall succeed in persuading myself to put ofi" to a second
volume St Peter and St Jude, with the introductory chapters
and essays specially belonging to them. But I should prefer
announcing the four Catholic Epistles together. St James,
or his outworks, have been going on here too in a manner ^
the actual commentary I find absolutely impossible without
AGK 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 13
books, from ignorance of the meaning of words. But much
useful matter can be accumulated and future time saved with
a Greek Testament and Bruder. Your mention of UUmann
reminds me to ask whether you have seen the cheap and
beautiful little reprint which the Perthes firm are bringing out
of some of the best liberal * orthodox ' writers of Germany ;
they are chiefly Neander, Tholuck, and Ullmann.
. . . Public affairs find me in the same condition, in-
capable of forming a judgment on anything. Not one paper
have I seen since I left Paris. ... A very few facts I have
gleaned from my father's letters, but none that help me much.
Thus far, then, I can only envy your power of going with
public opinion. Possibly our duty may be clear, but to me
it is hateful nevertheless. Starting with a strong predilection
for Denmark and the Danes, I have been able to admire
nothing in their whole conduct of this business except their
bravery, and found much the reverse. And detestable as the
conduct of Prussia has been, that seems to me a small matter
beside the deep and lasting curse of a war between England
and Germany, breeding endless animosity between the only
two great nations in the world which can ever be true and
intimate friends, and ultimately leaving all the civilized world
a prey to the destrojring Babylonish empires, France, Russia,
and America. Perhaps in all seriousness it is our duty to rush
upon all this, but it does not promote enthusiasm. However,
you see by this time I am not in a sound state of mind. You
will silence me with "Sufficient unto the day is the evil
thereof." I trust I may say I am really making progress
here. Frequent putting oneself under small cascades seems
to help the air considerably. I wish you could stand among
the rhododendrons now. Their effect under sunshine (a
subtle mixture of reflexion and transmission, I suspect) is
quite unearthly.
To HIS Wife
M. Cenis,/m^ 6/^, 1864.
. . . Now I must tell you of a little diversion I have been
having. It is always a little event, the passing of the 7.30
14 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
P.M. diligence from France, as it stops and changes horses here,
and I generally go to the window to catch glimpses of pass-
engers and see what is passing. On Monday evening I saw
the conducteur throw down to the people of the house a
plaid and a black rolled-up knapsack, and cry out that they
belonged to a monsieur et dame (as I understood) who
would be bientdt ici. This kept me on the alert, for it
implied that they were walking up the pass ; and I often went
to the window. Presently I saw a man in a grisly beard
come up the steps with some flowers in his hand, and a
curious thing over his shoulders, which turned out to be an
umbrella tied on to a pole, with what seemed to be a pick in a
leather case. Clearly he was Alpine, probably English, and
moreover he looked uncommonly like Ball 1 After he was
gone to his room, I enquired and found that he had been
here some days last year, but they did not know his name.
I got the landlady to go in with the water and towel and ask
his name apologetically on behalf of a monsieur who thought
he recognised him. In answer I heard "Ball, Ball, Ball''
three times very distinctly. Of course I waylaid him as
he came out, and made him have his coffee brought to my
room, where we chatted and looked over plants for some time.
He had to be in Turin next evening, being bound for Pisa.
In a few days he is to join Tyndall and Forster (whom
you will remember at the RifTel, a great friend of Ball's) at
S. Catarina, for an exploration of the Stelvio snow mountains.
(By the way, it is amusing to hear that he has at present —
and I suppose has published in the second vol. of the Alpine
GuidCy which was to appear to-day — next to no information
about those mountains except what I sent him; you will
remember the pains I used to take at S. Maria to make out
the geography of the peaks and glaciers.) But he proposed
walking down to Susa by the side of the valley or basin of the
Cenise opposite to that followed by the road, along the side
of the Roccia Melone, the most famous mountain hereabouts,
and he wanted to show me a sort of terrace-path easily
accessible from here, which forms the earlier part of the route.
I was only too glad to join him, it being left quite doubtful
how far I should go. Ball is an early man, and, though he
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 15
had not been in bed the night before, considered it great
condescension to my laziness to breakfast so late as half-past
five. It was a glorious morning, and I enjoyed the walk
immensely, and got on very well. One comfort in walking
with a botanist is that one is not expected to go full swing, and
we loitered and looked about as we pleased. On the upper
ground not much new turned up, as I had found most of the
good plants already. But the walk was magnificent, and, as
Ball said, quite easy for a lady. It was an excellent almost
level path at a great height up the very steep mountain side,
not itself on the edge of a precipice, but carried along just
above or at the place where a series of tremendous rocky
buttresses joined the mountain, and they were precipitous
enough for anybody, besides having their tops worn by
the elements into fantastic shapes. You looked down upon
this immense basin of the Cenise, with the old road zig-
zagging down among the pines in the upper part, and the
lower part comparatively level with green fields and cultiva-
tion and one or two villages. After a time we thought we
had better begin to dip into the valley. It was exceedingly
steep, but we found a kind of path, which helped us a good
deal Once or twice we were brought up short by some
awkward-looking rocks which interrupted the path; but on
actually trying them we found them not at all serious, merely
requiring ordinary care. We soon found the difference in
climate, and it was already uncomfortably hot by the time we
reached the scrubby dwa^ pines. On the other hand, the
plants increased; and the steep hot slopes for some 500 feet
above the bottom of the valley were most tempting; but
we could not afford time for searching, though we gathered
what we saw. Ball had jumped at my suggestion that
we should take a char from Novalese to Susa. But none was
to be had ; so the only way was to walk down to Susa, and
there take the diligence. The walk was along a narrow
country road through fields, mostly with walnuts and chestnuts
at the side, very pretty in its way. No plants, but that was all
the better, as time was getting precious. When we came
to the narrow mouth of the valley, where it opens upon Susa,
the rocks closed in on us, and then plants began to appear ;
i6 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT . chap, vi
some, very rare ones. We spent some minutes on one great
plateau of rock just overhanging Susa. It was now mostly
burned up, but a month ago must have been a choice nursery
of interesting plants. We picked up a fair number, and
should much have liked more time. . . . To-day I am of
course stiff and not good for a great deal ; but I don't think
I am really the worse for the day, and it certainly was a great
enjoyment. I doubt whether I have ever had such a haul of
plants ; — twenty species entirely new to me, and seven of
them belonging to seven new genera. It was practically
my first bit of botanizing (in reality not a couple of hours) in
a hot Italian valley, and that one peculiarly rich ; and then
there was the benefit of having Ball with me. I was more
than ever struck in our conversation with his immense
knowledge of Alpine and Italian plants. He seems to know
personally almost all the great botanists of Europe. It was a
great and unexpected satisfaction on Monday night to give
him a plant he had actually never seen before, a beautiful
large Primula^ which I remember our finding likewise at the
Bemina falls. We had not time to go over my M. Cenis
plants, except those actually in press; but we went over
all the Limone set, and he was glad to take specimens
of a good many. This morning, as you may imagine, I was
not up very early, and after breakfast I fell to work upon the
contents of the vasculum, before they should all get spoiled
after yesterday's baking.
To HIS Wife
M. Cbnis,/ii^ 13M, 1864.
. . . One of the Guardians has a very striking and beautiful
review of Newman,* which I hope you saw. Except a line or
two of unreasonable contentment with ourselves at the end, I
think I agreed with every word of it, and enjoyed it too,
though very much more needed to be said. The tone was
ungrudgingly generous, and showed, as it professed, a worthy
aversion to make controversial 'capital' out of his ample
confessions. I shall be very anxious to read the rest of the
^ i.e, Newman's Apologia.
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 17
book itself. I can well understand the Saturday Review ex-
plaining Newman's life by calling him an enthusiast ; and the
words will bear easily a sound meaning. But I do not think
they would have been selected by anybody who had anything
like a true appreciation of the man, still less of the subjects
with which he had to deal. They somewhat remind one of
St Paul before most noble Festus.
I have been rather busy the last few days in going over
Ball's Guide^ and writing down for him any hints and correc-
tions.
I believe I neglected to tell you of an amusing invasion I
had nearly a month ago. While I was at dinner one day an
odd -looking man walked in and out of the room in a per-
turbed state. Presently another joined him, a rather hand-
some young fellow, to whom the other might have been
confidential servant I heard spluttering talk in the kitchen,
and Mademoiselle told me soon after that they were Poles,
and could speak very little French. Then the young man
came in and asked me a question, but he knew literally only
a few words of French, and no Italian. I tried him with
German, and that succeeded a trifle better. Presently ten
more came in ! and had some food, and two of them spoke
German well, and we talked a good deal. They had been
expelled a few months before from Poland, had rested in
Dresden, been again expelled there (this I have further heard
from Ball), and were on their way to Turin, obviously with
very little to support them, but high-minded and gentlemanly
in their way of speaking. I helped them a little in the way
of interpreting, and privately gave the people of the house a
hint (which was acted on) not to charge too much. At part-
ing those I had been talking to shook me most cordially by
the hand, and with many (literal) blushes and apologies, said
they could not resist telling me how like I looked to Gari-
baldi ! The explanation of this is that in the salle d manger
there is a wonderful engraving of the * Defenders of the right
and liberty of Italy ' (!), Louis Napoleon in the middle, with
Victor Emmanuel on one side and Prince Napoleon on the
other ; the two generals Canrobert and Cialdini behind, and
standing gloomily apart at the two sides, Cavour and Gari-
VOL. II C
i8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HOKT chap, vi
baldi, the latter of whom, looking sulkily on the ground, has
certainly a distant resemblance to myself.
I do not think a traveller except Ball and those I hare
mentioned has entered the house since I have been here.
However, I have grown very callous to that, and only feel it
when a pleasant English family party drives by in a private
carriage, and that I do not see very often. The place itself is
always beautiful in good weather, thanks to the lake. And
now the satntfoin and Campanula rhomiotdalis are wonder-
fully brilliant There is a most beautiful and rare Campanula
(C. ailuinis, something like a one-flowered C. barbata, with the
flower full I J inch long). Unluckily the colour vanishes
immediately in drying.
To HIS Wife
C'E.KESO\x, July i^th aitd 3^k, 1864.
. . . How inexpressibly green and ignorant must be
to be discovering Newman's greatness and goodness now for
the first time ! spoke of it as a book likely to tell
powerfully in favour of Rome with those who were not secure
in that direction, though the whole position of mind was to
him inconceivable. This is more than I could say. If every-
thing in the world, and especially truth, is to give way to the
cultivation of religion, Romanism is the most natural and con-
sistent result What I was able to read of the book showed
me that this was at least the principal attraction which ended
in drawing Newman to Rome. 1 am extremely anxious to
see the rest of the book, but must wait. I sometimes fancy I
shall be obliged when I read it to write something ; or again,
that something may go into the essays hung upon poor dear
St James.'
To HIS Wife
AUBBKGE DE LA GkIVOLA, COGNE,
July list and August \tl, 1864.
I am going to-night to begin a letter to tell you something
of what was too much for my short letter of Friday evening.
' See » letter written after Newman's death, t(J. ii. pp. 423-5.
1
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 19
Just now there is quiet downstairs, but they have been having
their weekly jollification, dancing to a fiddle and singing.
They struck up among other things ^ MaWrouk se va^t-en
guerre^ (the French song written, I believe, to celebrate the
intended demolition of Marlborough 150 years ago, which
somehow never came off), which I have not heard sung for
twenty-six years. I hoped they would bring back to memory
the later verses which I have forgotten, and often vainly
tried to recall ; but, oddly enough, they stopped exactly where
my recollections stop. But I must go back to Ceresole.
Wednesday was so broiling that I did not repent having
decided to go at once. I had a stroll and bathe (very
little water), and that was all In the evening it seemed
doubtful whether I should be able to have a mule next day,
but later one turned up. I had arranged to start at 5, but
was not called, and did not wake till 4.45. When I came
down I found a considerable fuss. The very pleasant guide
whom Rimini had recommended to me (Blanchetti by name)
was unable to go himself, and the owner of the mule pro-
tested that it could not carry me and the luggage too. Cer-
tainly it was not an unreasonable objection to make. But I
had in the first instance applied to Blanchetti for two mules,
and he had assured me that one would suffice. I had made
him come to my room and see and lift t^e luggage, and still
he said the same ; so I thought I was safe. The worst was
that no mules were to be had, all being at Locana or Cuorgn^
at market Blanchetti did all he could for me, and at last it
was decided that I was to walk where the ascent was steep,
as also for much of the descent. Blanchetti started with us,
and the owner kept on dolorously grumbling ; and indeed I
felt that it was a very questionable proceeding, and in a few
minutes proposed that we should find a man or men to carry
the heavier things. This was agreed to, though there seemed
much doubt whether any one could be found. But before
we reached the village of Ceresole we met a man who owned
a mule, and a bargain was struck with him. It was a beautiful
morning, but clouds hid the top of the Levanna as we passed
it, — a great pity. The winding valley is interesting without
special objects for some way, and at last the path begins to
20 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
ascend a good deal till it reaches the chalet of Pilocca, where
we were at half-past 9. Opposite to this a fine valley opens
into the heart of the snowy range connecting the Levanna
with the Col di Gal^se; and by this time the clouds were
gone, and everything was beautifully clear. Unfortunately
one sees little of the peaks on the right hand My guide — ^if
so I may call him — is owner and occupier of the alp of Charm,
which lies not much out of the way up to my Col. So we
went first to his chalet, which commands a superb view of the
snow mountains that I mentioned just now. For the short
time that we stayed there I climbed the rocks in search of
plants, with very little success ; and I was sorry afterwards
that I had not attempted a sketch instead. At 11. 15 we set
off afresh. Thus far my man had held the rope of my mule,
letting the other mule go alone in front. But now he tied my
rope to the front mule, and led that In a few minutes an
unevenness in the ground made the old rope suddenly snap,
and my mule was thrown on her haunches, and so frightened
that it needed all my small powers of mulemanship to keep
my seat After this I begged to have the rope myself, which
was much more satisfactory. We skirted a little lake, forded
a considerable stream flowing from it a few yards from it, and
began zigzagging up the wild pastures beyond, till we got into
the direct and more usual path. It seemed to lead us to the
top of the ridge through a wilderness of great blocks. But all
of a sudden it turned sharply to the left, and went off in the
direction of the Col di Gal^se. At each step the ground
became more steep and rocky, and soon it became obvious
that I had better take to my own feet A few minutes of
zigzagging among the crags took us to the top of Col de la
Grande Croix de Nivolet (there's a name for you) at 13.40,
a wild and desolate place, with great patches of snow in
the hollows of the rocks and a fine glacier-swathed peak on
the left. The whole of the Grand Paradis range to the
right were hidden by a nearer wall of barren rock. For a
short distance the descent is steep, though not enough so
to make it necessary for me to dismount; and very soon
the Grivola comes into view in the nick in front, an almost
snowless peak of not very remarkable form as seen from that
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 21
side. Then comes what makes this Col de Nivolet a most
singular pass. Instead of descending into a valley on the
other side, you have to keep along an elevated trough of
poor pasture at a great height with very little descent for one
and a half to two hours, seeing hardly anything of the
mountains on either side. At 12.40 we reached Nivolet, a
curious village of wretched, very low stone huts. At one of
them some few things to eat and drink are to be had, and
there we rested To my dismay I found by degrees that my
man thought he could go no farther, and wanted to find
somebody else to take charge of me and my goods. He was
a poor creature obviously, though very well off, and per-
petually wailing in manner if not in words. Presently a man
turned up who owned a mule, with whom he seemed to make
some sort of bargain. By degrees I found that the mule was
to carry my luggage, and I walk to Valsavaranche, four hours
more ; or else carry me and the luggage together. But the
new man refused the latter alternative, and I the former.
They assured me that the path was very steep and bad, and
that I should be obliged in any case to walk. Luckily I
knew my ground, and told them, rather to their surprise, that
what they said was true for part of the way, but not for the
first hour or so, or for the last two hours ; and they did not
attempt any answer. At last my man found himself a little
refreshed, and agreed to come on, with the understanding
that, if we met another mule on the way (as there was some
reason to expect), he might make a transfer of the bargain to
the two new men, and return to Charm. At 3.8 we set off,
accompanied by the one new man who was as yet discovered,
and his mule, which of course was not in my service. This
man, Jean Pierre Jocale by name, was the strangest contrast
to him of Charm. He was tall and fine-looking, with hilarity
twinkling out of every corner of his face, the comers of his
eyes, nose, and mouth ; and he seemed to make more comers
on purpose. I never saw any one so (inoffensively) delighted
with himself, and who seemed to find everything and every-
body else so amusing. He told me, as did others at Nivolet,
that I certainly could not get mules across the Col de la
Combe de Cogne, as the path on the Valsavaranche side was
22 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
not yet touched, and was hopeless for quadrupeds. At the
same time he wanted me to take his mules down to Villeneuve
next day. I declined making any promise ; for, though his
manner made me think he was speaking the truth, my
authority to the contrary was good, viz. an intelligent chasseur
du rat who had lately been there, and who had in my presence
given some particulars to Rimini Moreover, I had some
reason to think Rimini would himself be still at Valsavaranche,
and I wished to consult him first, as he would probably by
that time have been up in that direction. Jocale was quite
satisfied to wait, and only asked me to send a boy to let him
know if, on arriving at Valsavaranche, I should find he was
right, and then he would appear next morning with a couple
of mules. His conversation had an improving effect on my
poor man, who did not lose his spirits again till quite the end
of the day. At first we traversed a flat, seemingly the dry
bed of a lake, and in twenty minutes began to cross a ridge
of rock worn by ancient glaciers, which had left here and
there blocks of stone nicely poised. After a short interval
came another, and then another, each bringing us to a lower
level. All this, with a fine waterfall on the left, was an
agreeable change on the monotony of the long upper valley.
All of a sudden on turning a comer I found myself in the
presence of a magnificent view. We had in fact come to the
mouth of the small lateral valley, and were standing looking
down into the Val Savaranche from the top of the wall of
rock which forms one of its sides, and the grand snowy
range which crowns its other or east side was extended at full
length in front. Right opposite was the Grand Paradis, a
massive block of rock and ice, something like the Ortlerspitze,
the central mountain from which the various snowy ranges
of the Graian Alps diverge. To the left it continued itself
in a narrow rocky ridge, rising here and there into sharp
points, then making one great dip (over which goes the Col
de la Combe de Cogne), and finally rising again to form the
Grivola. To the right stretched an immense snow-field with
three distinct mountains, two of the haycock or ^sugar-loaf
form, and the third one of the most delicately cut peaks I
have ever seen, — apparently the Cocagna ; but the names are
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 23
all in coofiision as yet Perhaps these Graian Alps may be
considered as clearly inferior to Mt. Blanc, the M. Rosa
region, and the best views of the Bernese Oberland ; but they
surpass all others that I have seen. At that point, the Croix
d'Aroletta, I dismounted for the steep zigzags by which the
path manages to descend the broken precipice. Lower down
the view extended further to the right, taking in a great
glacier to the right of the Cocagna, filling the head of Val
Savaranche, and another peak to the right of that ; but on
the whole the mountains lost in effect. I coveted greatly an
hour to make a careful outline, but we had had such delays
that it would not do, and I was obliged to content myself
with the roughest possible indication. I remounted in about
half an hoiu:, and at 4.49 we reached the valley at Pont. A
few minutes farther down Jocale left us, and his last talks
delayed us somewhat. From Pont we had two hours of the
valley, a very fine and rugged one, something like the best
parts of the Val S. Nicolas, but narrower and I think more
picturesque, with many waterfalls at the sides. At 7.2 we
reached the village of Valsavaranche, very glad to welcome
anything by way of shelter for the night. That frame of
mind was certainly an advantage under the circumstances,
for the inn was not tempting; and it was well that my
expectations were not high. It was a wretched little cabaret^
with one room (besides the kitchen and family bedroom), into
which you descended by three or four steps. In the comer
was one dark, deep, short bed, like the lower half of a great
chest The two windows were nailed up, but I had one of
them taken out, to the horror of the Charm man. Some of
the early visitors gave this place the name of 'Marmot's
Hole,* *Marmotte* being the soubriquet by which the
worthy little oddity of a landlord is known among his neigh-
bours. I learned at once that Rimini had started for Cogne
the day before by the Col de la Combe de Cogne, and that
certainly a mule could not go that way as yet ; so I lost no
time in sending to secure Jocale's mules for 5 a.m. A
draught of milk and brandy did me great good. A little later
came supper, bread, eggs, and wine ; and then I went to bed.
This last proceeding was a bold experiment ; but the position
24 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
into which one is forced by the things they use for saddles
had left me so strained and stiif (not sore) that I was thankful
to lie down on anything tolerably soft. Things looked worse
than they were. I got some real sleep, and was less attacked
than at Ceresole. Soon after 4 I was up, and before break-
fast was over Jocale appeared with two mules, and soon after
his cousin. He would not himself go beyond Villeneuve, but
the cousin was ready to go on to Cogne with one of the
mules, finding a second at Villeneuve. I thought it better,
however, to defer decision till reaching Villeneuve, as it was
possible that I might there find myself so stiff or so tired
that, being on the great road, I might prefer to take a char to
Aosta, and either rest there a day or two before going to
Cogne, or give up Cogne altogether. At 6.24 we started,
there being as usual much delay about the loading, etc. The
lower part of the valley is extremely fine, but perhaps not
equal to the upper p2^ The path was much better and
more even. In some places they were improving it in honour
of the expected visit of Prince Amad^e, Duke of Aosta, who
is to be there this week. Jocale is Syndic (or elected chief
manager) of the commune^ and it was very amusing to see
him inspecting the work as we went down. Just before 10
we reached the mouth of the valley, but at a great height,
and I dismounted for the descent, which continues almpst
into Villeneuve, where I arrived at 10.37. Villeneuve is in
the very heart of the Val d'Aosta ; so, as you may suppose, it
was fearfully hot. However, I felt quite up to the ride to
Cogne, and arranged accordingly, and then went and had
some lunch, and botanized a little on the adjoining rocks.
At 12.47 ^6 ^^^^ off again. For some little way to the east
the path keeps in the great valley, which I saw delightfully.
The colours are perhaps not so rich as I expected ; but most
of the greens are gone by this time, and the purples not yet
come. At 1.30 we crossed the bridge over the Cogne
torrent at the mouth of its valley, and ascended steeply
by the village of Aimaville to a great height From this
point the path is extremely good and comparatively level.
For two or two and a half hours it is an exceedingly wild and
beautiful valley, deep and narrow, with very precipitous rocky
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 25
sides and rich wood below. For a long way the torrent is
at a vast depth beneath you. At 2.50 we crossed the first
(or second) bridge, and from that time you keep tolerably
near the water, a most destructive stream, as is shown by the
numerous ruins which occur here and there on the banks.
At 4.20 we reached a tarn where the valley begins to widen.
By slow degrees it loses its wild character, without becoming
altogether tame. Soon you pass the Grivola ; but the peak
is hidden, and you can only see some rugged buttresses with
glacier betweea Presently the valley widens still further
into an open green plain, at the head of which stands the
village of Cogne, which we reached at 6.4. Rimini received
me fraternally with a kiss on each cheek ! He is engaged in
correcting some of the numerous errors in the Piedmontese
Ordnance survey map, being also a member of the new
Turin Alpine Club. He is thoroughly a gentleman and well
informed, and I like him much ; so that I am fortunate in
having him. I brought him a letter from his General, which
had been addressed to him at Valsavaranche, giving him
further leave of absence from Turin ; and he proposes now to
stay here two or three days more, finding plenty to do. He
quite confirmed the impossibility of riding here direct across
the mountains from Valsavaranche. At Ceresole I had
advised his consulting M. Chamonin, the curk of Cogne, an
excellent mountaineer, the first who completely ascended the
Grivola. He had done so with much satisfaction, and in the
evening after dinner M. Chamonin came and had a chat.
Next morning we went and called on him, and had a long
chat, first at his house and then in my room, over maps
on things topographical, Rimini picking up wisdom for his
office, and I for Ball I was able to help them both, partly
by my maps, and partly by translating into French various
excursions and descriptions in Ball's Guide and some left
here in MS. by Tuckett, whom you may remember meeting
between Basle and Olten in 186 1. In the evening I went for
a stroll up the valley, to where another tributary valley, the
Combe de Valeiglia, opens with a cluster of glaciers at its
head, with Rimini But I gave up the idea of a walk or ride
with him next day to Arpisson, whence the view of the
26 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
Grivola and adjoining mountains appears to be specially fine ;
and he went alone. I hope to be able to-morrow to accom-
pany him to the Poucet, which commands the view of the
Grivola, that described by King. But if I find it too much
I shall return. He is gone to-day on a long and laborious
expedition to Mt. Emilius, to verify some gross errors which
a narrative by Mathews and Bonney in Ball's book enabled
me to point out to him in the Government map \ so that he
can hardly be in very vigorous condition to-morrow, and we
shall suit each other better. I think of taking a mule up to
the highest chalet, and reserving myself for the climb. Both
on Thursday and Friday after long riding I seemed to walk
with perfect ease and without fatigue, as soon as the first
stiffness and crampedness was gone. I now think of staying
here about a week more. They have fowls, yesterday we had
some marmot, and to-day they expect to have some meat, and
apparently for the rest of the week. The Prince is expected
at Aosta on Thursday, and I suppose will stay a night or two;
so that that would be a bad time for going to Aosta.
Although the flies are troublesome and the heat great in the
sun, there is a pleasant and invigorating air, and I have a
spacious and fresh room with three large windows. I like
the house and the people, who are very obliging and anxious
to do all they can. I shall be glad to be quiet for a little
while before undertaking another double journey. Lastly, I
want letters.
The above is a specimen of very numerous home-
letters written in the summers when Hort was obliged
by circumstances to go abroad without his wife.
To HIS Wife
CoGNB, August %thy 1864.
... On Saturday we had a famous day at the Poucet
We started at a quarter to 5, I on a mule. On the way up
in some open wood I espied a plant which I had been
on the look-out for, and which alone was worth coming to
-^^•^ — — ^^
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 27
Cogne for. Cogne and perhaps one spot in the French Alps
are the only places where it is known to grow in France,
Germany, Switzerland, or Italy (where else it grows, I don't
know). It has not been found here for fifty-four years, and,
if I understood Ball right, nobody knows whereabouts in the
▼alley it was found then. It is a very large, robust, leguminous
plant. Astragalus cdapecuroides^ with great thick woolly heads
like eggs. The flowers were all withered, but the heads still
on. Of course I feel myself bound to dry a fair number of
specimens ; but it is a great bother, for they are bulky and
take up my paper sadly. It was a very pretty ride past several
groups of chalets, first up one glen of the Grivola, then round
a ridge and up another, till we reached the chalets of Poucet
dessus at 7. 30. Here we rested more than an hour, and had some
warm curds and whey and delicious virgin honey in the comb.
At 8.40 we started again, but in twenty-five minutes the way
became too rough to ride, and I dismounted. I had settled
that the mule should wait for me there to take me down the
more level parts of the way. But 'I dismissed it at once, as
there were no level parts, but all one steep and rugged ascent,
not particularly pleasant in going up with a mule seemingly
used only to the valley paths, and very particularly unpleasant
for going down. We then (Rimini, a guide named Giandoline,
and myself) went on climbing to the head of the combe, and
then turned to the right up a steep slope of 'clappey' or
debris of large loose stones. I forget nearly all of King's
account of the expedition except the terrible * clappey,* which
seems to have haunted his dreams. I was therefore agreeably
surprised to find it decidedly easy of its kind, not to be com-
pared to the clappey of the Grauhaupt. Rimini, however, did
not like it at all, and we had several times to stop and
wait for him. I must confess I had a little malicious pleasure
in this, for hitherto I had had opportunity for nothing but
talk, and was not sorry to let him see (what I suspected he
doubted) that I had at least some Alpine capacity. I had
been somewhat amused, in an account written for an Aosta
paper of Rimini's ascent of M. Emilius by an educated semi-
guide who accompanied him, to hear that they had drunk the
health of the " touriste Anglais, who amuses the leisure hours
28 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
of M. Rimini." On the Poucet, however, Rimini very good-
humouredly confessed defeat, urging that I was a meilleur
iquilibriste than him ! — a word that one would have thought
applied only to Blondin. Now you know what I am good
for ! At I0.22 we reached the top of the ridge, and came on
a glorious view. Close at our feet was the almost stainless
glacier-basin of Trajo, completely shut in in front and to the left
by the ridge on which we stood, which curved round, almost
completely swathed in snow, in several small heads, till it
approached the Grivola, right in front, when it became a wall
of bare rock, rising to the very top of the peak. The back is
formed, as in the Matterhom, by a snow line, in this case
perfectly straight Then the wall of rock slopes down into a
beautiful curve, rises up into a subordinate peak, and finally
falls away in jags at the other side of the icefall to the right
We first built a loose wall to shade us from the burning sun,
then took a third breakfast, and then sketched away for the
bare life. At 2 we set off again, following the ridge for some
way, to get the Grivola at a different angle, and to see better
the magnificent panorama (or half of one) from Mt Blanc to
the Matterhom, and from Mt Emilius to the Tour du Grand
St Pierre in this region. At 3.25 we again reached the
chalet, stayed twenty-five minutes, and had some whey and
rum, and came slowly down, reaching home at 5.50 after a
most enjoyable day. I was very little tired, and am even less
now, though this is the second day after ; so that I think the
rest and air here must have done me good, in spite of the
heat Rimini started at 3 this morning for Bard and Turin
by the Fen^tre de Cogne. I should much have liked to go
with him as far as Chavanis, the only known locality for a
curious plant ; but it is full three hours off, and I was afraid,
especially with so very early a start. This afternoon I
scrambled some way up the glen of Granson, and at last got a
dip. I did not go high enough to see the snow moun-
tains completely; but I had a last peep at the Grivola
and the Grand Paradis. Mt. Blanc (the [top, and Mt.
Maudit) I see every day, for it is he that fills up the gap at
the mouth of the valley. Cogne abounds in interesting
excursions; but having been to the Poucet I can go away
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 29
contented, though I have done so very little. I have been
buried in topography, and the days have been hot. Yesterday
(and yesterday week) was a fite day, so I saw the people walk
in procession. The women in costume have no waists, and
mostly wear a very high and wide white (some few red) apron,
generally with broad lace edging, tied with a red or purple
string, and over their heads a doubled white antimacassar.
Every day they wear round their necks a large round frill,
and altogether they look like overgrown babies. They look a
harmless, but dull and joyless race.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
EcKiNGTON House, Cheltenham,
September yd and (Uh^ 1864.
... In Paris I bought the popular edition of Renan,
which you should see. The preface is very striking, and in its
way even beautiful. The book itself I have not read very far,
but ought to finish it. Both the excisions and the alterations
required by the excisions do make it quite a different book.
Renan's own comment on the effect thus produced is very
interesting ; whether true, I have not read enough to say. But
this edition brings into even greater prominence than before
the great distance — I dare not say contradiction — between his
beliefs and his feelings about sacred things. Strauss' new
book I have not yet seen.
To Mr. J. Ball
EcKiNGTON House, Cheltenham,
September lotk, 1864.
My dear Ball — This is merely a flying shot to ascertain
whether you are in England. A vague story reached me at
Breuil that ' Tyndall's party ' had had a bad slip somewhere
in the Tyrol, and that Tyndall was so much shaken that he
was obliged at once to return to England. This makes me
anxious to hear that you are sound as well as safe ; though,
if the accident had been of larger proportions, it could hardly
have failed to make more noise.
30 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
I spent six days at Ceresole, twelve at Cogne, and fifteen at
Breuil, and then came home by M. Cenis. Altogether I was
able to accumulate a considerable mass of details for you on
the Graian Alps, of various degrees of interest; the more
important facts being furnished by M. Chamonin. They are
not quite ready yet, but shall be sent very soon, if I hear that
you are in England.
One thing I must tell you. I had the good fortune to
find Astragalus alopecuroides near Cogne ; the plant is quite
unmistakeable. Accidental circumstances prevented my going
in search of (Ethionema Thomasianum^ as I had intended.
But I was able to make rough lists of plants for the different
valleys, which may perhaps be of some use to you.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Cheltenham, September 23^, 1864.
. . . Newman certainly raises many thoughts. At present
I have hardly got beyond the feeling of astonishment at our
having the privilege of such an autobiography. I have read
it under very unfavourable circumstances ; three numbers be-
fore I started, and the rest very rapidly since my return.
But I must go through it again continuously. What the
special thoughts are that have moved you so strongly, I shall
be interested to know. Every syllable of the book (except
the miserable controversial dialectics) I enjoyed thoroughly,
and felt its force ; but I believe at a distance. All or nearly
all seemed to me to belong to that world of neat ' theories of
the universe,' which is so rudely shaken to pieces both by
personal experience and (may I say it ?) by natural science.
Within that world Anglicanism, though by no means without
a sound standing, seems a poor and maimed thing beside
great Rome. But when we pass out of it into the open air,
things put on a very different aspect; much becomes frag-
mentary and obscure, but each fragment gains a certainty
from its connexion with fact which it never had as part of a
compact system. I believe Coleridge was quite right in
saying that Christianity without a substantial Church is vanity
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 31
and dissolution; and I remember shocking you and Light-
foot not so very long ago by expressing a belief that 'Pro-
testantism' is only parenthetical and temporary. In short,
the Irvingite creed {minus the belief in the superior claims of
the Irvingite communion) seems to me unassailable in things
ecclesiastical. Yet that is not after all the essential aspect of
sacred things. If we may take St Paul's life and work for
our guidance (and St Peter's " Of a truth, I perceive that God
is no respecter of persons " goes even further), we may well
be content to put up with comparative formlessness for I
know not how many generations rather than go back to *' the
elements of the world."
I must have expressed myself badly about the little Renan,
of which I have read no more as yet I did not dream of
any change of opinion on his part, or of any nearer approach
in eifect to Christianity. But I was struck, so far as I went,
by the change produced within his own limits by little more
than subtraction. You must remember that the memory of
the dead is the substitute which is proposed to us for a per-
sonal immortality. Comte began with a similar dedication,
French in tone, but I think quite genuine. Mill has done
much the same. I have this summer read a book of
Michelet's in which he endeavours to hope against hope that
his nation may once again learn to have high and noble aims,
by appealing to the culte des maris which has grown up within
his own recollection. His belief in immortality is less vague
than Renan's ; for he cannot se passer de Dieu as cause
aimante ; but it is dim enough. Yet surely these substitutes
should by all means be cherished. They are good in them-
selves, and keep a door open for the reality. But I am
getting into truisms.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Cheltenham, SeptemberiUhy 1864.
We must not be tempted into discussing the Church and
the Churches in the opening lines of a letter. I must take
the chance of your misunderstanding me for the present, and
I
32 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
merely state one comprehensive belief, — that perfect Catho-
licity has been nowhere since the Reformation (strictly, indeed,
it was cruelly injured long before by the FUioque and the
Athanasian Creed), and that since then we have had the
pre-eminence in constitutional Catholicity, and (not 'Rome'
but) the Churches that hold to Rome in historical Catholicity.
To HIS Wife
Trinity College, Odoher 18M, 1864. 2.20.
I am off for a walk with Lightfoot at half-past 2, but I
will just begin a line. I found rooms taken for me in the
Great Court near the gate, only separated from Lightfoot's by
the gate itself . . .
We breakfasted quietly, and then, after seeing Blore,
getting a Bidding Prayer at Macmillan's, and ascertaining the
hour (half- past 10), went to St. Mary's. The congregation
was certainly small. Curiously enough, each estate of the
M.A.'s was Just represented, one Head of a House (the
Master of Christ's, in place of the Vice -Chancellor), one
Professor (Lightfoot), and one Member of the Senate (Mr.
WoUaston of Peterhouse). Mr. Hopkins, the Esquire Bedell,
the clerk, the organist, and the singing boys made up the
rest; except that two people dropped in in the middle. I
cut out two or three pages, but still it seemed too long.
After sermon I spent some time with Lightfoot talking, and
then went off to give Bonney his minimum thermometer. He
was engaged with a pupil and could only see me for a minute
or two, but I am going to him again to-night at his request
Other friends had their doors shut, so I came back to examine
Bradshaw, and write to you. I broke off to go to Lightfoot,
and found I was just an hour too soon. However it did as
well, for he took me to see the magnificent bequest of books
which a Mr. Grylls has lately made to the library, and then
we went to the Pitt Press about printing matters. On the
way we met John Mayor, and made him promise to follow us.
Clark and Wright and another man joined us at the Press,
and so we six had an orthodox walk by Trumpington and
AGE 36 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 33
Giantchester, getting home just in time for ' HalV ''•^* dinner.
There I met divers friends, as also in Combination Room
afterwards. Then came chapel, a delightful service to me in
many ways. It was musical, as being on a Saint's day, and
we had (strange to say) the accustomed old chant and good
and familiar services. We are just come out So you will
see it has been a very happy day.
To HIS Wife
Harrow, October 23/1/, 1864.
. . . We had a pleasant evening, six of Westcott's Sixth
Form boys dining with us. Yesterday we worked all the
morning till I had to go to Mrs. Butler's (sen.), where I
lunched. Then we worked till near dinner, when we had a
very nice little party, the two De Morgans, H. M. Butler,
Farrar, Bradby and his mother, and H. W. Watson. Mrs.
Bradby, whom I had never seen, and who was well worth
seeing, came in the evening. We tried to turn tables, but
the creatures wouldn't stir. Both the De Morgans were radi-
ant and pleasant. To-day we have been to morning chapel,
and had a good sermon from Bradby ; but a great number
of boys are away, this being 'Exeat Sunday,' which gave
Westcott a holiday yesterday. After evening chapel I am
going in for a little to Montagu Butler's. Our work thus far
is very satisfactory, and we are going now to have two or
three pages of the beginning of St. Matthew set up in type at
once ; not with any idea of printing off immediately, but as
experiment We shall, however, be very soon printing off in
earnest.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
Cheltenham, /ontAio^ 12M, 1865.
... I am rejoiced to hear that Papias is actually un-
earthed. I only wish it had been a few weeks ago, for I
have spent more time than it is worth in tracing out his
sources, and written some melancholy pages on the subject
In fact I had finished him except a look at Isidore (whom
VOL. II D
34 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
I left at St Ippolyts), and a search in the Bodleian among
the productions of the mediaeval gentleman, and if necessary
other folks of the same kind. But it is a great comfort to
be spared that last job. I had never noticed till now what
an extraordinary tangle of contradictions it (the fragment)
contains.
Is not Tischendorfs conversion to sanity a remarkable
phenomenon? It makes one's mouth water to hear of an
almost complete palimpsest of the Epistles and Apocalypse.
But to think of its being a good part of two years before we
see the readings. It is too cruel
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
5 Lower Crescent, Clifton, April %%th^ 1865.
... I dare not prophesy about America, but cannot say
that I see much as yet to soften my deep hatred of democracy
in all its forms. But I do not expect to find any one to
follow the obstinacy of my toryism.
To the Rev. John Ellerton
5 Lower Crescent, Cufton, Bristol,
May *ith^ 1865.
... I have done almost nothing this winter except text,
but that has been very engrossing. Besides the laborious
revision of St. Matthew, and still more laborious comparison
with Westcott's revision and consequent discussion, I have
had a great heap of troublesome and unremunerative work
to do for the orthography and other such externals of the
text, which cannot well be neglected, though study leads
in many cases to no completely satisfying results. The first
sheet has now for some days been lying before us in proof,
though there are still some unsettled points in accents, and
punctuation and paragraphs are very embarrassing. To avoid
every chance of error, Vansittart ^ acts as assessor to me, and
Bothamley^ to Westcott in looking over the sheets, so that
1 The late Mr. A, A. Vansittart. > The Rev. Hilton Bothamley.
AGE 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 35
everything will pass under four pairs of eyes ; but this plan
involves loss of time as a matter of course. I despair now of
seeing St Matthew in type before I go abroad, and of course
printing will be suspended during the summer; but we are
pushing on with St. Mark, which happily comes out much
clearer now than when I examined it with crude impressions
some years ago.
The only other work that I have done has been a rough
draft of an essay on the Jameses, which I wished to complete
independently of Lightfoot's. Lightfoofs book,^ as I dare-
say you have seen, has now been out some weeks. I hardly
expect that justice will be done to its solid and sterling
qualities. Its quietness and careful avoidance of any kind of
ostentation are not unlikely to disguise it from ordinary critics.
The notes are, I think, much the best that we possess on
Galatians, and the accompanying essays very sound and wise.
The main purpose of the volume is to determine precisely the
nature of the Apostolic history to which Galatians is the key,
and that is its distinctive merit. As far as I know at present,
I should not acquiesce in all the statements about the relation
of Ebionism to the early Church in the last and most
important essay 'On St Paul and the Three'; but it is a
substantially true account of at least the earliest period,
written with equal candour and force. Doctrinal questions
are almost entirely avoided, as Lightfoot means to keep them
for Romans. However, that is certainly the weakest point of
the book; and Jowett's notes and essays, with all their
perversities, are still an indispensable supplement.
I believe it is since I wrote to you that I have seen the
latter part of the Apologia^ though that seems and is an age
ago. Perhaps the book hardly fulfils its own promise, though
it is a shame to detract from its surpassing interest and value.
The utterly detestable style of repartee into which Newman
£alb at the end, throwing away his magnificent position to
grovel far below 's level, is most provoking. But even
the lofty parts tell less than one at least desired to hear, though
enough to give a vivid picture of the course of things within
his own mind. Two things specially struck me; the un-
^ The Epistle to the GakUians,
36 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
questioning assumption that there is one absolutely and
exclusively Divine system in all things, especially one Church
so entirely right that all other bodies must be entirely wrong,
and the complete permanence of his Calvinistic religion,
changing nothing but its form when it passed most naturally
into Romanism, and placing him throughout in a position
where the vision of pure truth as distinguished from edification,
i.e. religious expediency, was a simple impossibility. But how
strangely distant from 1864 the whole book sounded! The
Christian Remembrancer and Gttardian (especially the latter)
had good and noble articles ; but no critique that I have seen
has at all grasped either Newman's own significance, or what it
is that separates those *years from the present generation by so
impassable a chasm.
De mortuis nil nisi bonum. And so we are worshipping
our noble selves in the shape of poor Lincoln, as we did in
those of Cobden and Prince Albert. Certainly the newest
hero-worship is a very funny thing. But there has been
some genuine reaction by way of justice to honest Abe for
some months past ; and the man himself grew undeniably in
wisdom and nobleness under the pressure of his tremendous
duties.
To THE Rev, Dr. Lightfoot
Hotel Klimsbnhorn, M. Pilatus, /»»« 24/^, 1865.
. . . The main point in [ *s] complaint about Cam-
bridge was that the authorities no longer encouraged sound
knowledge of language, in short true scholarship, but
cherished ignorant and careless brilliancy under the name
of genius; and that the loss of £uth in language was
destroying faith in everything else. If this be in any
degree true, the encouraging facts which you mention,
and which certainly should be borne in mind, are hardly a
sufficient answer. But I suspect he has exaggerated the
importance of some individual instances. It is very difficult
for me to judge at a distance ; but it does seem to me that,
as was to be expected, Cambridge has not escaped what may
be called the degeneracy which has infected the whole upper
AGE 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 37
class of England for some ten years past or more. We can
hardly fail to see that we are on the whole just now in a
languishing period, when energy, enthusiasm, and faith are low,
and the concrete objects of desire, pleasure, and wealth are
pursued to a very disproportionate extent, and sometimes
seem, however untruly, to be alone pursued. There are many
causes for this, which affect the educated classes generally, and
which therefore must affect the Universities who are fed from
that source. There is enough to make us very anxious in the
steady growth of both causes and effects, because to a large
extent they coincide with and are due to wide movements of
society which cannot, humanly speaking, be expected to
change their direction for some time to come. But it is well
also to remember how subject the temper of the rising genera-
tion always is to ebbs and ^ows, and what unexpected reactions
may quickly arise. But enough of this. I must to bed.
Engstlen, yw/v i^th, — . . . Thus far I have been pretty
closely following our route of 1856. I think I made out our
route up Pilatus from Herrgottswald. It must have passed the
Klimsenegg, approaching it by the steep path just below, and then
taking much the same line as the present path to the Krisiloch.
The Krisiloch itself looked a very awkward place to scramble
up without the assistance of the ladders, as we had to do ; but
I suspect some projections and roughnesses of the rock must
have been cleared away when the ladders were fixed. I
identified clearly the place between the Oberhaupt and the
Esel where the first of those ill-fated ^ photographs was taken.
In observing the place where the Esel must have been
climbed before the zigzags were made, I could not recognize
the ground. Is it that you alone went up the Esel while my
head was buried in the camera? I had forgotten this, but
fancy it must have been so.
To HIS Wife
ENGSTLENj/tt^Jf 2 1 J/, 1 865.
. . . Mr. Parker lent me four Timeses, which contained
most of the interesting election news. But I am still in
* See vol. i. p. 307.
38 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
suspense about Gladstone, and of course know nothing about
the counties. I am heartily rejoiced that Mill has come in,
and so, I am glad to find, is Westcott He tells me that the
Conservatives placarded Westminster with, " If you wish to lose
your Sunday, vote for J. S. Mill." " But," adds Westcott, " I
wish that I could induce him to read a little Greek theology."
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Engstlen,/^^ 2ird, 1865.
... As yet no news about Gladstone later than the result
of two days has reached Engstlen (to-day, July 23rd, I have
heard the shameful conclusion); but I had an opportunity
of seeing four Timeses giving the early elections. Lord
Amberley's failure delighted me almost as much as Mill's
success. I quite agree in your desire as to a better direction
of his theological reading, but have been wondering much
which of his writings has specially led you to the result
Perhaps it is the late articles in the Westminster, which I
have not seen. I have nearly finished his book on Hamilton,
which is for the most part very successful ; perhaps I liked it
the better for recognizing some favourite thoughts of my own ;
of course it sees but one side of philosophy, but as against the
Scottish position, it seems to me on nearly all points un-
answerable. It costs an effort to do homage to Mill's greatness,
when one listens to the empty puppies who call themselves by
his name and repeat his phrases; but the greatness is un-
deniable. When, however, you desire to guide him to Greek
theology, I am tempted to ask how many theologians or others
there are who do not need the same office. The total absence
of any specific influence of Greek theology upon the Oxford
movement, notwithstanding the extensive reading in the
Fathers possessed by its more learned chiefs, is a very striking
fact On the other hand, I think it was a leading cause of
the largeness of mind found, along with much rhetoric and
incoherence, in the greater English divines from 1550 to
1650.
^■■"I
AGE 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 39
To HIS Wife
Engstlbn, August is/, 1865.
... I saw Dr. Acland at the foot of the table, and of
course at once went up to him. For the moment he did not
recognize me (when he saw me before, as he hinted, my beard
was only infantine), but a word was enough, and then he was
most cordial Mrs. Acland is not with him, but his eldest
son, a beautiful boy of fourteen now at Rugby, whom he wanted
to teach a little botany. . . . Hutchinson is a great acquisition.
I have long known him (he belongs to the Mayors, Roby, and
Lightfoot set), but only slightly ; now of course we drop at
once into complete intimacy. I am specially glad to have
such a link with Rugby. Amy and Beaty are dear eager little
girls, and as far as I can see, quite unspoiled. I had them on
my knee last night to tell them the names of their dried flowers.
I meant to have written to you last time about that frightful
Matterhom accident, but had not time. Girdlestone was at
2^rmatt at the time, and saw a great deal of Whymper, who is
most truly to be pitied, for his name is so connected with the
Matterhom, and rather wild designs upon it, that people are
sure to blame him for the accident, and apparently quite
wrongly. He was resolved to do the Matterhom, and equally
resolved, when that was done, to give up mountaineering,
because there were no more mw great mountains to be
conquered ; and now to have succeeded and at the same time
to be the only English survivor of the expedition is something
terrible. Girdlestone says that Mr. M'Cormick's letter to the
Times was a very good one in all respects. He too was to
have gone up, but arrived in Zermatt a day too late. If any
one was to blame, it seems to have been poor Hudson in taking
up a young fellow Hke Hadow, who was new to the Alps this
year, and had only been on three or four expeditions ; but he
is said to have done well on Mt Blanc. Here, however, in
the one solitary dangerous place it was a matter of sloping,
slippery rocks to which he was probably quite unaccustomed,
and which are, I think, the worst thing one can have to cross.
Every one seems peculiarly sorry for Hudson; he was so uni-
40 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
versally respected, and was himself so cautious and experienced
a mountaineer. People naturally turn now to the touching
account which he wrote of young Birkbeck's accident on the
Col de Miage. Lord F. Douglas seems to have had an almost
miraculous escape on the Gabelhorn two or three days before,
when he was rash enough to go where Moore, one of the best
and boldest mountaineers living, refused to go, as too dangerous.
Girdlestone says that that Sunday at 2^rmatt out of the congre-
gation of sixty only six did not stay for the Communion, and
of them three afterwards sent an apology, saying that they were
Dissenters. Mr. M'Cormick, the chaplain, seems to have been
well employed elsewhere, having nobly volunteered with two
other Englishmen and some Chamouni guides to accompany
Whymper in searching for the bodies, which was a far more
dangerous expedition than the ascent of the Matterhom itself.
The other accident was hardly less sad in its way. I had
never heard of Wilson, but he was a dear friend of Storr's, who
speaks most warmly of him. His companions are said to have
resisted his crazy notion of ascending the Riffelhom alone ;
but he stole away from dinner to do it. It must have been a
piece of utter inexperience. Doubtless many worse places are
constantly climbed without danger ; but I remember noticing,
when I went up with Leslie Stephen and Melchior Anderegg,
how very awkward some of the places would have been if I
had been alone. I got up and down without help, but Melchior
was always ready and on the watch in case of a slip or anything
else requiring assistance; otherwise I should never have
ventured as soon as I saw the real nature of the climb.
To HIS Wife
Engstlen, August St A, 1865.
. . . The Aclands have likewise had the merit of possessing
an AthetuBum and two Guardians^ which I was very glad to see.
The former contains a review of a translation by C. H.
Chambers of an Italian book on the curious pile-dwellings
found of late years in Alpine lakes ; the latter, among other
things, Gladstone's magnificent election speeches in S. Lanca-
'^ s-
AGE 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 41
shire, which I hope my father read out They will certainly
be famous a century hence for their lofty tone, fervor, and
eloquence. By themselves alone they would make the election
of 1865 a memorable event, even if it were not already
remarkable by some of the people elected and the way they
have come in ; and they show that the dirty httle squabbles
which fill the papers are only one side of the election. Taken
as a whole, I must say it makes me look forward to the new
parliament with great interest and hope.
I forgot to mention one interesting thing Dr. Acland told
me. He is to be President of the Physiological section at the
British Association this autumn^ and is determined to put
down at once with a high hand every attempt to introduce
arguments connected with theology, whether on the Christian
or the un-Christian side ; and if the meeting will not support
him in this, he will leave the chair. He expects there will be
a row, and hopes it too, as it is time the question were
decided once for all whether a scientific meeting is to be
agitated by things which have nothing to do with science.
To HIS Wife
iEGGisCHHORN, August i6tA, 1865.
. . . The Lyells went away yesterday morning. They
spent all Sunday at the Marjelen See. They were quiet and
rather reserved, Sir Charles mostly talking to his neighbour at
dinner in a whisper. He is rather infirm now. He has a
striking head and forehead. He one day at dinner addressed
me by name to ask me some question, and on Monday he
had a good long geological talk with three or four of us, in
which I took a considerable part, and found him very courteous
and intelligent. . . .
On Sunday read the lessons, and made us all shudder
for the sermon when we heard the solemn and elaborate
drawl in which he emphasised the story of Elijah on Mt.
Carmel. You may imagine our astonishment when at the
end of service he got up and said he thought he could not do
better in the Alps than read out a sermon preached in the
42 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
Alps on the subject of the Alps, and then gave us a well-
known and very fine sermon of Stanley's, formerly preached
at Zermatt Hudson took charge of the music, which went
well — Hanover and Old Hundredth. In the evening we had
a little service upstairs, when gave us a piece out of
another still finer sermon of Stanley's, in which the Alps were
— ^rather without point — ^used as an illustration. This morn-
ing he attacked Davies and me to know whether there was
any authority for supposing that Melchisedec was never
married! — a question hard to answer with proper gravity.
An hour later he came down again to me with some MS. in
his hand, and explained his former question. It seems his
Italian evangelization is totally different from what we sup-
posed, and incomparably better. There is a very interesting
movement among a certain number of both clergy and laity
for the reform of their Church without abandoning it, and the
editor of the newspaper, the Essaminaiare^ which is the organ
of this movement, is a fiiend and correspondent of his. He
was asked to comment on a letter from an intelligent priest
on clerical celibacy, which, while admitting the gross corrup-
tions and even pleading for considerable changes, maintained
the principle of compulsory celibacy for at least the elder
clergy. One argument referred to O. T. examples, and
among others to Melchisedec ! He read me a sort of abstract
of the letter with his own comments, and asked my opinion
about them. They were a little wooden, but on the whole
sensible enough and free from popular claptrap. At all
events I felt the good man deserved all encouragement,
that sort of English influence in Italy being likely to do more
good than harm.
To HIS Wife
RiFFEL, August 29M, 1865.
... All this company has been in the way of my sketch-
ing during the little clear weather that there has been ; I have
been able to do part of one drawing here and no more as yet,
but I hope to seize what opportunities I can. I have used
my box a good deal, though not perhaps in the way you
AGE 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 43
would approve. One or two attempts in proper colours drove
me to disgust and desperation ; and though I may perhaps
attempt something of the kind again from the Riffel hotel to
express the present colour of the ground, viz. by brown pink
and yellow ochre, I must for the most part stick to my pen
sketches washed over, using different tints for the different
distances. This produces a very fair effect The vegetation
now consists chiefly of half-withered Azalea^ green tufts of
Veronica beliidioides in seed, yellow hay, and lichens of all
colours. Rarely you come across Senecio incanus in flower,
or a stray Campanula or Pkyteuma. I have had great diffi-
culty in finding these poor little gentians, which please give
dear little Ellen with papa's love. I had once thought of
writing her a little note ; but she is too young quite to take it
in, and it might spoil the pleasure of the first letter firom papa
hereafter.
To HIS Wife
RiFFBL, SepUmber ^th and 6iA, 1865.
... On Monday I had a very delightful surprise. As
I was finishing breakfast, I was clapped suddenly on the back,
and turning round beheld J. Fitz- James Stephen, whom I
daresay you will remember from Malvern, where I had one
walk with him. We had met him in the street there walking
with Maine, now the legislative member of the Council of
India. He was here fi'om Zermatt with his wife. . . . Henry
Blunt and I joined them in their walk up to the Gomergrat,
and on the way down I took them to the Rothkumm and
Gugl, and after dinner to the Dristel before they again de-
scended to Zermatt I thus had a great deal of talk, and most
interesting talk, with Stephen. Since I saw him, he has been
defending all the heretics in the law-courts, fi'om the Essays
and Reviews people to Colenso; but we did not say much
on those matters, almost entirely on purely speculative sub-
jects, on which we agreed excellently well, though no doubt
on some of the highest points there is a wide difference be-
tween us. Curiously enough, I had been thinking two or
three days before that on most important subjects I agree
44 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
either with him or with Westcott, two of the most unlike men
I know. He says he will certainly come and see us at St
Ipps. ; and altogether he was very cordial. He half hinted
that I should do well to write in the Saturday Review or some
such places, but acquiesced in the reasons I gave for not
doing so. However our conversation helped to strengthen
the feeling which has been growing upon me all this summer,
that it is a clear duty for me to keep on actively reading and
thinking upon speculative subjects, and to publish upon them
as soon as I can. Naturally I grow still more impatient of
present idleness, and shall hope to do a little more work of
one kind or another ; as also more sketching, when Blunt is
gone. I heartily wish that text did not stand in the way ; but
the best plan to get it out of the way is to work hard at it in
the winter, as far as other even more necessary occupations
will allow. It is a pity, though not unnatural, that —
should affix so restricted a meaning to the word 'work.' I
don't remember ever having desired to do anything but
*work*; and certainly the appetite for it grows rather than
diminishes. At the same time I do feel for the sake of work,
as well as for the sake of both our happiness and that of our
children, that it must not be allowed to become a burden, and
must have its proper lightenings and interruptions.
To HIS Wife
RiFFBL, September gtA and loM, 1865.
. . . To-night we have a distinguished guest, no less a
personage than Prince Napoleon himself, the veritable Plon
Plon. He is a heavy man in a large white hat, exactly like
his portraits.
The Prince went up to the Gomergrat early this morning,
and, I hear, made three or four failures before he could get
on his horse. After breakfast he went down to Zermatt
His appearance this morning was by no means imposing.
He stoops a little, has his shoulders half-way up into his ears,
and has a most hang-dog look altogether. There is certainly
a great resemblance of feature to the great Napoleon, but
AGS 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 45
none whatever of carriage. The contrast with Louis Napoleon
is most striking. In spite of his brilliant and dashing speeches,
he has not the least appearance of strength of mind or char-
acter. But there is no knowing what a drill-serjeant might
make of him.
To HIS Wife
RiFFBL, September 12M, 1865.
. . . On Monday morning I came in for an unexpected
bit of good luck. Edwards came into the scUle h manger
just as I had finished breakfast, and asked whether I knew
W. G. Clark, the Public Orator of Cambridge, for he was
outside. There sure enough I found him. He had not
been at Zermatt since his first tour twenty years ago, when
the Eiffel was unknown except to botanists. I think he was
as glad to find an old Cambridge friend as I was to have
him, and I at once started up the Gomergrat with him.
There we watched some people coming down M. Kosa, and
were lucky enough to look exactly at the right moment for
seeing on the top of the Breithorn two young Cambridge
men, sons of a friend of his. After early dinner we went to
the Dristel, and looked out for them on their way down from
the St Th^odule. We had just given it up when I saw them
crossing the glacier a long way off It was a great interest to
us to watch their various operations for some time, and Clark
was so absorbed in it that he found himself too late for
returning to Zermatt, so he slept here with the help of a
piece of my soap. We waited for them as they came up
under the RifTelhom, and then we all came home together,
watching the splendid sunset, one of several magnificent
sights that we have been having lately. That same morning I
had seen breakfasting at another part of the table a family just
come up from Zermatt, whose appearance at once made me look
at them again and again. There were a kindly-looking Uttle
father ; a very pleasant, bright-eyed mother, greatly reminding
me of Mrs. Stanford in £ace, manner, and voice; a fresh
young fellow of twenty ; and two striking girls— -one pale and
delicate, the other full of a most pleasant and modest eager-
46 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
ness. At dinner they were not far oS, and my party had a
few words with the father. In the evening it was an un-
usually crowded iadle cThdte^ and, though I came in purposely
late, I had been waiting a huge time in vain at the bottom of
the table for a chance of ordering my coffee, when he likewise
came in to see whether his family had a chance of their tea,
and then we had a little talk. At last the dinner broke up,
and they got their tea, Clark and I being very near, and we
all talked together. I had found that the young lady had set
her heart on going to the Cima to-day with her brother, but
her mother thought it too cold for her (which proved to be
the case) ; and she bore what was obviously a bitter disap-
pointment so beautifully that I felt a strong desire to get her
some compensation. I suggested that she might still get a
walk on the ice. She liked the idea, but doubted how she
could manage it, till her father said he thought it might be
contrived with a guide. Clark and I had not settled what to
do to-day ; so I took an opportunity of asking him whether it
would do to make a little expedition on the Corner Clacier,
and offer to take the young lady and any other of her family.
He assented, and we agreed to make the proposal this morn-
ing. We were down in good time, but I thought I saw their
hats through the window, and went out before breakfast I
found the mother and both daughters setting out for the
CugL I propounded our plan, which was eagerly accepted
by both mother and daughter, but I found no one except the
latter could go. So she came back to the house, while her
mother and sister went on. On rejoining Clark at breakfast
I learned that he was unwell, and would only be able to go a
short way, but he would not consent to the walk being given
up. It certainly looked a funny prospect, of my having to go
alone with the young lady all over the rocks and ice ! How-
ever, Clark went on and on, and not only found himself able
to take the whole walk, but enjoyed it extremely. We fol-
lowed the same route as with Henry Blunt and the Hesses,
except that on the glacier we went farther towards the middle,
crossing and recrossing the moraine to visit the little glacier
lakes. Miss walked capitally, of course with occasional
help in the steep places. We got down the precipitous
AGE 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 47
ravine leading to the glacier in twenty-six minutes, where the
Hesses made us take an hour. As before, I had to cut a
few steps at the edge of the glacier with my alpenstock (the
Brecon steel point being most useful), and help the others up
a little way, and then all went on merrily. Soon after we
had turned from the lakes towards the Gomergrat, we saw her
brother's party on the ice a long way off, returning from the
Cima, and made haste to meet them. However, the many
ups and downs we had to take rendered that impossible.
After a time we saw them leaving the ice ; and when at last
we were quite clear of the great moraine and approaching
their side of the glacier, we saw them high up on the path,
nearer home than the spot where you hurt your ancle. We
shouted and whistled, and they stopped and shouted back,
but obviously could not make us out. In a very few minutes
they were right over us at no great distance, and we were
able to exchange a few words. We then saw the brother leave
the rest and go back, descending the M. Rosa path to meet
us, which he did just before we were off the ice ; so we had
all a jolly walk home together, arriving about half-past i.
I had a little talk with him, and liked him extremely. He is
just finishing his second year at St John's, Cambridge, and
spoke with great affection and veneration of John Mayor.
Of course he is hardly more than a boy, but a nicer one I
never saw. All the circumstances of our walk were severe
tests of the real worth and character of a girl of, I suppose,
nineteen, and she stood them completely. The combination
of bounding happiness and fearless freedom with absolute
modesty and self-restraint was such as I have never seen
surpassed
To HIS Wife
RiFFEL, September i%thy 1865.
. . . This morning I was just able to get a pencil outline
of the whole Matterhorn, with the three accompanying glaciers
(Zmutt, Furgge, and Gomer), from the Gugl. This afternoon
I have made progress with a view of the Breithom (including
the Twins and Little Matterhorn) from the Dristel. I began
48 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vi
it this day week with Henry Blunt, but could not draw well
while talking to another person not similarly employed, and
to-day had to rub out a great part of the outline and do it all
over again, which wasted much time. I have in hand four
sketches here, nearly all of which want a great deal to be
done on the spot ; but I am anxious to manage two more if
possible, viz. the Gabelhom and Rothhorn, with the Trift
glacier between them, as seen from here, and the Matterhom
combined with the Riffelhom from some way along the M.
Rosa path. Indeed it would be easy to find many other
subjects, but these are of first-rate importance. . . . Really I
would rather not have friends now, unless very choice ones
indeed, for I want to get on with my sketches, which take a
long time, and I am in agony for fear the clear weather
should go first. At this moment (half-past 3) all the hollows
on the Rothhorn and Weisshorn, as I see them through my
window, are full of the richest purple shadows. Every even-
ing towards the close of sunset the highest snows of the
Breithorn, Twins, Lyskamm, and M. Rosa positively flame
with the most intense pure orange.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
EcKiNGTON House, Cheltenham,
October 2nd, 1865.
... I saw many old friends [at the Riffel] and acquired
new, whom I hope to keep. The mountains looked fresher
and more marvellous every day. September 23rd was my
last day. On the 25 th I left Zermatt and came straight home,
travelling part of the way with an intelligent young Prussian,
an ardent disciple of a new (!) sect of 'Friends of Light*
founded by one Weslicanus, who, after many years of negation,
is now beginning to construct, apparently on an eighteenth
century model. My companion Mayet is chiefly devoted to a
comparative study of the moralities of Socrates, our Lord, and
Schiller 1 As far as exile and idleness would allow, it has
been a happy summer, and I think successful I took no long
walks of any kind, and always suffered from any approach to
one. But I have enjoyed good general health with little
AGE 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 49
interruption, and trust to be carried well forward through the
ensuing months.
About the 25th we hope to go to near Bath for about a
week, and then have the joy of finding ourselves once more
at home at St Ipps.
. . . The summer and its various thoughts have left me
with a keen and impatient appetite for reading, thinking, and
writing on divers greater matters. But the only way to the
needful liberty lies through diligence with the text
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Cheltenham, October nth and iith, 1865.
... I have no present intention of publishing separately
on subjects of speculative theology. What I have to say will
probably take the form of essays attached to the Catholic
Epistles. It seems impossible really to explain either the
meaning of the Epistles or their signi^cance for present needs
without such essays, so that the place already exists for dis-
cussion, and is by no means arbitrarily created I am more
and more inclined to let St James form a Vol I., in spite of
considerable difficulties in separating the £icts of the intro-
ductory matter. The chief subjects for essays in connexion
with his epistle stand at present provisionally thus : —
On Religion and its Substitutes (its relation to Ritual,
Theology, Morality).
On Prayer (including Providence).
On the Heavenly Wisdom (the fear of God).
On the Righteousness of Faith and of Works.
The distinctively Christian subjects necessarily accompany
St. Peter. Among them the one which probably most nearly
approaches your field is * On the Hope of Glory/ I hope
to do something in this direction this winter, being anxious to
clear my own thoughts by having them on paper, and then take
some time to review them.
I am very far from pretending to understand completely
the ever renewed vitality of Mariolatry. But is not much
accounted for, on the evil side, by the natural revertence of
VOL. II E
50
FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT
CHAP. VI
the religious instinct to idolatry and creature worship and
aversion to the Most High ; and, on the good side, by a right
reaction from the inhuman and semi-diabolical character with
which God is invested in all modem orthodoxies — 2^us and
Prometheus over again ? In Protestant countries the fearful
notion * Christ the believer's God * is the result In Romish
countries the Virgin is a nearer and more attractive object,
not rejected by the dominant creed ; and the Divine Son
retires into a distant cloud-world with the Father, the whole
speculative tendencies of Latin theology (and much of the
later Greek from Ephesus onwards) aiding in the result, being
in fact Apollinarian in spirit. Another idea has lately occurred
to me : is not Mariolatry displacing much worship of scattered
saints, and so becoming a tendency towards unity of worship ?
This is all very crudely expressed -, but I think it is substan-
tially true, though probably by no means the whole truth.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Cheltenham, October 17M, 1865.
... I do quite hope to get forward with those essays this
winter, but it is hopeless to think of that till I am quietly
settled at St Ipps. Reading your slips is a much easier
matter. You would not, I presume, urge the separation of
the essays from St James, and he must unavoidably take
some time, even if we were free from the incubus of the text
I feel most strongly the need of the full two-sided truth being
spoken out on those matters in the present state of ^ feeling.
But it is even more important not to break silence with any-
thing crude. Immediate writing but not immediate publica-
tion seems on the whole the most desirable course.
I have been persuaded for many years that Mary-worship
and * Jesus '-worship have very much in common in their
causes and their results. Perhaps the whole question may
be said to be involved in the true idea of mediation, which is
almost universally corrupted in one or both of two opposite
directions. On the one hand we speak and think as if there
were no real bringing near, such as the N. T. tells of, but only an
AGB 37 CHELTENHAM AND THE ALPS 5^
interposition between two permanently distant objects. On
the other we condemn all secondary human mediators as in-
jurious to the One, and shut our eyes to the indestructible
{2LCt of existing human mediation which is to be found every-
where. But this last error can hardly be expelled till Protest-
ants unlearn the crazy horror of the idea of priesthood.
CHAPTER VII
LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK
1865-1872. Age 37.
In November 1865 Hort returned to his parish much
more fit for work than when he left, but still far from
strong. Shortly after his return he was thrown back
by an operation, not in itself very serious, but one the
effects of which on a low state of health kept him in
bed for some weeks. In the following years he was
gradually drawn closer to Cambridge, whither he
migrated in 1872. In the interim he had stood un-
successfully for one post there, and had examined four
times for the Moral Sciences Tripos. In 1871 he
examined in Natural Science in the Trinity Fellow-
ship examination, and also in the Natural Sciences
Tripos. He was Hulsean Lecturer in the same year,
the last of his residence at St Ippolyts ; in fact, by a
coincidence which he could not regret, although it
entailed very severe labour, the work of the Natural
Sciences Tripos clashed with the preparation of the
Hulsean Lectures. Three years before he had ex-
pressed his reluctance to become a Hulsean Lecturer,
owing to a growing dislike of the position of a pro-
fessed apologist. This feeling had not disappeared
when in 1871 he held the lectureship, but he found
CHAP. VII LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 53
himself able to compose lectures which came well
within the scope of the statute, without formally hold-
ing a brief for any opinion or set of opinions. Since
he thus appeared as an inquirer, a * philosopher ' in
the strict sense of the word, the value of his lectures
as apologetics was rather increased than diminished.
His position is fully explained in his unfortunately
fragmentary Introduction to the Lectures,^ as eventu-
ally published after his death. Composed at the time
under great pressure, they were afterwards in part
rewritten, and both enlarged and compressed ; the first
two of the four had passed through the press in his
lifetime, with the others he was still dissatisfied.
Year after year he tried unsuccessfully to get them
finished. They were in some sense the fulfilment of
his long-cherished idea of a book on Christian philo-
sophy, an opportunity of expressing some of his deep
convictions on the highest subjects, subjects on which
his thoughts were ever set amidst work which seemed
to be chiefly concerned with settling details of lin-
guistic or historical accuracy. They were his chief
contribution to theological thought, as distinguished
from theological learning and scholarship. Such being
the case, it was natural that he should find it hard to
satisfy a mind singularly receptive of new light, from
whatever source it came, and a taste singularly fastidi-
ous in expression. Still, it is rather pathetic to think
that to most of those who knew his name during his
lifetime he was known far less as a thinker than as a
minute scholar. Truth of all kinds was precious in
his eyes, but the attainment of truth in matters of
historical or linguistic fact was to him always not an
1 The fVay, the Truths the Life^ being the Hulsean Lectures for 1871,
published 1893.
54 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
end but a means. The Hulsean Lectures (or rather
essays) even in their imperfect form give a remarkable
picture of a mind both scholarly and philosophic, wide
in its grasp, though minute in its investigation of
details. In form they are an exposition of St John
xiv., of which they contain a wonderfully fresh exegesis,
noteworthy for the scrupulous fidelity with which
every word is interpreted. Language often regarded
as figurative is shown to be only intelligible when
boldly construed in its literal sense. This belief in
the trustworthiness of language was a leading prin-
ciple in Hort's, as in his friend Westcott's exegetical
method : it was a principle which each had learnt at
school from a distinguished teacher. Of the inner
teaching of the book this is not the place to speak.
Not the least remarkable feature in these compressed
and difficult discourses is the absence of overt allusion
to the works of theologians, scholars — English and
foreign, and men of science, while yet a familiar
acquaintance with and appreciation of 'the best that
has been thought and said ' on the great and various
subjects dealt with can be read between the lines of
almost every page.
Of the 'apologetic* value of these discourses a
discriminating critic speaks as follows : '' I was in-
clined at first to wish for more reference in the book
to the special difficulties of our time, but as I gather
up the impression it has left on my mind, I feel that
to be lifted up above these difficulties and shown them
like rain -clouds below the mountain -tops is a truer
help for meeting them than any direct reference. One
has the sense that they are discerned, and that they
are subordinate. I sometimes think this is all one
wants — not of course all one desires — but all that
VII LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 55
one human being can bring to another of aid in the
struggle with doubt. All beyond this, I suppose, must
come through a voice that is not human."
His other work continued to be much the same
that it had been before his temporary absence from
the parish. Two important additions to it were how-
ever made by his becoming in 1868 a contributor to
Dr. William Smith's Dictionary of Christian Antiqui-
ties^ and in 1870 a member of the New Testament
Revision Company. The latter undertaking made it
a necessity to get forward with the Greek Testament
Text, in order that the Company might have the use
of it: the text of the Gospels was privately printed
for use at the early meetings. At first he was doubtful
about accepting a place on the Revision Committee,
because he feared that the revision would not be
thorough. His fears, however, were dispelled by the
first meetings of the Committee, and the * wonderful
harmony ' of the proceedings was a pleasant surprise
to him. Shortly after the formation of the Company
he wrote to the Spectator to combat the idea (founded
on things which had been said in Convocation) that
the revision was '' in the hands of a clique, or that any
conditions had been imposed on the Companies such
as to interfere with truthfulness and thorougl;iness ;
though it was too much to expect that any revision
conducted by a large mixed body should be entirely
free from compromise and the defects which compro-
mise involves." Having once undertaken the work,
he threw himself heart and soul into it, and for the
next ten years hardly ever missed a meeting ; the
Committee sat for the best part of a week in each of
ten months of the year. In 1868 the Journal of
Philology was revived: Hort's most interesting con-
56 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
tribution to the new series was an elaborate article
(vol. iii. No. V. 1 871) criticising Lightfoot's account of
the Doxology at the end of the Epistle to the Romans
in a review of Renan (vol. ii. No. iv. 1 869).
Of these various occupations sufficiently full account
is given in his letters, to which indeed there is little
to add of external history. In the year after his
return to St. Ippolyts his mother, whose health had
for long given cause for grave anxiety, died at the age
of sixty-four. In the same year he was induced to
stand for the Knightsbridge Professorship of Moral
Philosophy at Cambridge. Maurice, however, who
entered very late, and was apparently ignorant what other
candidates were in the field, was elected. He wrote
characteristically in answer to Hort's congratulations :
'' I cannot be sure that the electors are right. I
believe you would have brought to the subject many
qualities and certainly a scholarship which I do not
possess." Hort therefore returned to parish work for
the present, delighted with Maurice's success, but
doubtless with his thoughts now turned more definitely
than before towards Cambridge. Moreover, though
philosophy had lost none of its charm for him, he be-
came gradually convinced that his main work for the
future must be theology ; and in some way or other
he looked forward to helping in the training of the
clergy. In the remaining six years of his stay at St.
Ippolyts his friends endeavoured to find him con-
genial work elsewhere, e.g, it was suggested privately
that he should stand for the Vice-Principalship of
Lampeter College, and his name was mentioned for
the Chair of Modern History at Cambridge on Kings-
ley's resignation.
In 1868 Mr. Westcott left Harrow for a canonry
vn LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 57
in Peterborough Cathedral. The move was felt by
Hort to be a very important one, and he became
more than ever anxious to co-operate in a work in
which he felt that his friend was likely to take a very
leading part. He was present at the impressive service
in the school chapel at which Mr. Westcott's Harrow
friends took leave of him. In 1871 he himself became
examining chaplain to the Bishop of Ely (Dr. Harold
Browne), whom he continued to serve after his transla-
tion to Winchester. Before accepting the post he
candidly explained to the Bishop that objection might
be taken to his views, especially on the doctrine of the
Atonement; but, to his great relief, the Bishop was
perfectly satisfied to take him as he found him. Two
years previously he had accepted a Rural Deanery, but
retired in favour of Mr. Blomfield, who had held the
office before and was willing to resume it In education
other than clerical there was much movement in these
years, all of deep interest to one for whom educational
reform of all kinds — elementary, secondary, academical,
and clerical — meant so much. He entered with en-
thusiasm into the celebration of the Rugby Tercenten-
ary festival of 1 867, and three years later was involved
in troublesome correspondence concerning the appoint-
ment of a new headmaster. He refused an invitation
to write on Classics and on the Education of the Clergy
in the volume on Educational Reform edited by Dr.
Farrar. In 1869 the Women's College was started
at Hitchin under Miss Davies. Hort, who had taken
great interest in the movement, helped in the choice of
a site, and lectured for a short time to the students on
Divinity. These lectures, together with those on English
Literature, were soon given up, to his and Miss Davies'
great regret, because the students found themselves
58 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
unable to undertake so many subjects as in their early
zeal they had thought possible.
Hort was the prime mover in a petition to Parliament
on the subject of the conscience clause in Mr. Forster's
Education Act of 1870. The object of the petition
was to substitute the Apostles' Creed for the Church
Catechism. Mr. Forster himself was inclined to favour
the suggestion.
In the same year appeared the programme of a
* Church Reform Association/ which Hort criticised in
very careful letters to Mr. J. LI. Davies, who was one
of the leaders of the movement When the first tenta-
tive draft of the Union's programme was sent him, he
wrote as follows : —
There is urgent need of movement, and within the Church
itself. Whether the astounding folly, cowardice, and short-
sightedness of the clergy and the religious world generally will
allow any effective movement, is not so clear. Church matters
have a very ugly look just now. Most (not all) of the reforms
sketched in the paper seem to be highly desirable ; and, as far
as I can venture to say at this moment, I should be glad to
take part in any well-considered and hopeful project for bring-
ing them forward. I should much like, however, to learn the
antecedents of the said paper, and what its authors have, how-
ever dimly, in view.
In reply to this request Mr. Davies explained that
the * paper ' grew out of a conversation with Mr. Thomas
Hughes ; before proceeding further the reformers wished
to secure the names of influential supporters ; Maurice
was on the whole favourable to the movement Light-
foot and Mr. Westcott had also been applied to, but
Mr. Davies hardly expected effective support from them.
In answer to Mr. Davies' letter Hort wrote : —
VII LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 59
That neither Lightfoot nor Westcott will agree with all
parts of the programme is likely enough, but both in different
ways would sympathise strongly on some heads. It would
be a great gain to secure their cordial adhesion, if possible.
Westcott will throw his whole strength into anything that will
promote vigorous organisation, and that is the side which on
all accounts I should like to see placed in the front. I have
not been able yet to think of any good and comprehensive
formula to express what I regard, and I imagine you too, as
the main purposes. What is negative and destructive should
be made subordinate, however necessary. We want chiefly to
get rid of isolation, to make governors and governed in each
imperium work together, and the various imperia work to-
gether. At present anarchy and autocracy render government
impossible, and I think war must be waged on both simultane-
ously. The laity must of course have real and legal power
given them, but cautiously and tentatively. What is once
given them can probably never be recalled, and Dissenting
congregations are a warning (even more than an instruction)
with a vengeance.
He next tried to put on paper some detailed sug-
gestions, but could not satisfy himself with them.
Meanwhile the Union took shape. The first list of
the Council included the names of the Right Hon. W.
Cowper Temple (Chairman) ; the Rev. E. A. Abbott ;
Charles Buxton, Esq., M.P.; the Rev. J. Llewelyn Davies;
the Rev. T. W. Fowle ; Thomas Hughes, Esq., M.P. ;
the Rev. Harry Jones ; the Earl of Lichfield ; Professor
Seeley ; Sir Harry Verney, Bart, M.P. ; the Rev. W .H.
Fremantle ; and Sir George Young. The objects were
defined as : —
A. To obtain an enactment giving an organisation and
certain defined powers in Church matters to the inhabitants
of parishes.
B. To urge the removal of impolitic restrictions.
6o FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
C. To promote improvements in the machinery of the
Church system.
Under A it was proposed to create a Church Council in
any parish upon the requisition of a certain number of the
inhabitants. This Council was to have a veto on alterations,
and, in conjunction with the Bishop, the power to enforce
alterations, in the forms of the Church service so far as they
are not fixed by law. Hereafter, if found to work well, it
should be entrusted by law with further powers, e.g. a voice in
the appointment of the incumbent
Under B were proposed —
(i) The abolition of clerical subscription.
(2) The removal of any legal hindrances by which those
who have received holy orders are excluded from civil
employments.
(3) The discontinuance of the use of the Athanasian Creed
in the services of the Church.
(4) Power to be given to an incumbent to invite persons
not in Anglican holy orders to preach, subject to the
inhibition of the Ordinary.
Under C the following improvements in ^machinery'
were suggested —
(i) A gradual subdivision of the larger dioceses.
(2) A modification of the forms of election and con-
firmation.
(3) A rearrangement by a Royal Commission of the
boundaries of parishes.
(4) Some provision as to the prosecution of clerical
offenders.
(5) A plan of superannuation for the clergy.
(6) A revision of the translation of the Bible.
(7) More elastic arrangements of the Church services.
(8) Some provision for securing the repair, or authorising
the disuse, of Church fabrics.
To the proposals thus forniulated Hort was unable
to subscribe. His criticisms, with Mr. Davies' final
expostulation, will be found on pp. 125-133. The
Association held conferences and a meeting in St
AGE 37 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 6i
James' Hall, but it failed to make way; an attempt
was made by Arnold Toynbee to revive it, but without
success.
These last years at St Ippolyts were crowded with
correspondence. Some months before the move to
Cambridge was made Hort was beginning to feel
overdone with excessive toil. His energy was not
relaxed nor his interest abated in the many subjects
which claimed his attention, but labours which singly
he could attack with enthusiasm crushed him by their
accumulated weight, and the financial struggle became
sharper as time went on. Things were therefore ripe
for change when in December 1871 came the offer
of a Fellowship and Lectureship in Theology at
Emmanuel College. By the curious circumstances of
the appointment, which are described in his letter to
the Bishop of Rochester, he was for a short time in an
odd position ; in order to be elected, he was obliged
by statute to be holding no cure ; he had therefore to
resign his living privately, remaining meanwhile at St
Ippolyts pending the election, and being of course
unable publicly to take his election for granted ; thus
he had already ceased to be Vicar of St Ippol}^s before
his parishioners knew of the coming change.
To A Friend
St. Ippolyts, November ^h^ 1865.
. , , In Memoriam is always associated in my mind
with when it first appeared; but I know I had
not then learned to understand it. In after years I have
found great help from many of its thoughts. It is easy to
understand how bewildering it often sounds to our elders,
and something better may well be hoped for for our successors ;
62 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
but to our own generation few books, I think, speak with so
much force.
... It seems as if nothing short of varied and mostly
sad experience can give reality and meaning to our highest
beliefs. At the beginning of life we repeat them in words
with perhaps little doubting, but we do not and cannot as yet
know their truth. Only when we have struggled through hopes
unfulfilled, and efforts that seemed to end only in waste and
failure, and when on the other hand we have been forced to
recognize blessings springing up under our feet where we
looked for only barrenness, are we able to see for ourselves
that all is indeed well, because all is part of the gracious dis-
cipline by which God is ever striving to mould us to His
will. Such at least has been my own experience, and I think
it is that of others. And on the other hand, as fiar as I have
been able to observe, unbroken success and satisfaction is to
all except a few of unusually lofty character the worst of fates,
deadening nearly all real growth, and ensuring a perpetud
poverty of nature. But this belief seems to me to bring
rightly with it two other beliefs which are not always recog-
nized. First that, though we do well to leave our past behind
us, it is not well to strive wholly to forget it ; the steps and
stages of our life should always be precious in our memories,
partly because they belong to that which is deepest in our-
selves and cannot be wholly sacrificed to the present and the
future without irreparable loss ; partly because they may be to
us a kind of personal ' sacred history,' in which we may at
all times read the purposes of God's love. Second^ that the
dearly purchased lesson of the seriousness of life ought never
to make us indifferent to its fruits and flowers, which never
cease to surround us if we only have an eye to see them.
Sometimes it is hard work to win even endurance ; yet to be
content with endurance is not Christian, but Pagan. It has
been said with true wisdom that God means man not only to
work but to be happy in his work. Only those who have tried
know how difficult it is to carry out this principle ; but I believe
there are few more important Without some sunshine we
can never ripen into what we are meant to be. Prudence
may tell us that, since hopes and wishes have come to nothing,
AGE 37 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 63
and enjoyment ended in pain, we shall act wisely if we hope,
wish, and enjoy no longer. But this is for the most part
selfish economy, not Christian sacrifice. A larger wisdom
would bid us go on hoping, wishing, and enjoying in simple
faith ; knowing that fresh disappointments will indeed surely
come sooner or later, but knowing also that it will be our own
fault if both present possession and future loss do not make
us richer in that which has an abiding worth. To draw our-
selves closely in, and shrink from all ventures of feeling, is to
cultivate spiritual death.
. . . During the last fifteen years my thoughts and pur-
suits have grown and expanded, but not considerably changed
Theology is now with me as it has always been, the chief sub-
ject of interest, while I have by no means abandoned the other
subjects of various kinds which have occupied me at different
times. To give them up would be not merely a severe priva-
tion to myself, but an injury to whatever little I may ever be
able to do in Theology, for that is a study which always
becomes corrupted by being pursued exclusively.
In Theology itself I am obliged to hold a peculiar position,
belonging to no party, yet having important agreements and
sympathies with all, and possessing valued friends in all. What
I am chiefly is no doubt what Rugby and Arnold made me.
In other words I have perhaps more in common with the
Liberal party than with the others, through a certain amount
of agreement in belief, and because in these days of suspicion
and doubt I look upon freedom and a wide toleration as
indispensable for the wellbeing of the Church. At the same
time I feel most strongly that there can be no higher aim
than to help to maintain a genuine Christian faith, and a
reverence for the Bible at once hearty and intelligent.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, November 14M, 1865.
... I don't remember what mark I made to your posi-
tion about miracles as a function of the age. It is certainly a
very interesting idea, but perhaps goes farther than what I feel
64 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
sure o^ viz. that miracles would be quite out of place in one
age though they might be well fitted for another ; and this,
not only in relation to the course of history, but to the current
beliefs about nature. I had rather not say much about the
Temple question, but I see no present way to agree with you.
The difference perhaps lies deeper. I am inclined to regard
the period after the close of the O. T. as one of corruption,
like the Hellenistic age of Greece ; and what you consider as
the culmination of Israel is to me its decay. Of course that
time had its appropriate work to do: but I much doubt
whether the progress in doctrine from the hopes of the pro-
phets to the dogmas of the scribes was not more evil than
good, a premature and mischievous anticipation of Christianity.
I fear I do not yet see the point of your distinction about the
soul. I too should say that " the growth which I see is of the
complex 'I'"; but then the soul is one of the elements of
that ' I,' and partakes of the general growth. All I meant to
say is that both elements start pari passu ; and that, tf we
can conceive the soul as existing apart from the body after its
dissolution, this has no real relation to the question of pre*
existence.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, November 17M, 1865.
. . . We must not begin talking about Hellenistic ages
on paper. Indeed I find myself in a perpetual state of form-
ing and then half withdrawing general judgements about our
own age.
It seems to me that the only soul of which we have any
knowledge, whether separable or not, is the result of growth,
whether single or joint growth, is surely irrelevant Hence a
supposed separation of a soul that does not carry with it the
results of growth is to me merely an unknown predicate
applied to a still less known subject
I believe I agree with all or nearly all that you say about
Catholicity, though I should shrink from laying down that
single side of the truth without further exposition of its rela-
tion to other sides.
AGE 37 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 65
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. Iv^OTJTiSj January 8M, 1866.
. . . Have you seen Ecce Homo ? It is a very important
book, with some manifest deficiencies. From the present
volume religion and theology are expressly excluded, being
reserved. But the purely ethical aspects of our Lord's life
have never, I think, been seized with such truth and power ;
and His words (those at least of the First Three Gospels) are
set in their proper place. The tone and style are for their
purpose admirable. They often remind me of Temple,
though I hardly think he can be the author.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Iftolyts, /anuary s^st, 1866.
. . . About the Foreign Alliance I know little; but, if
I mistake not, the doctrinal basis hardly differs from that
of the English aggregation, — I cannot say body. My own
feeling is decidedly for cultivating sympathy with foreign
Protestant bodies, as well as the Greek and unreformed
Latin Churches. But it is not easy to take part in public
proceedings for the one without being in antagonism to the
others; and any surrender of our Catholic position would
seem to me a fatal mistake. How far that would be involved
in taking part in these meetings is not easy to say. I cannot
pretend to be hopeful about them ; yet one is loth to cast
away any chance of promoting mutual good feeling ; and in
the entirely abnormal Christendom which now exists one must
not be too squeamish. You see my ideas are not clear.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Abercamlais, Brecon, S. Wales,
Junezydy 1866.
My dear Ellerton — ^That which befel you a few months
ago has befallen me now. My dearest mother died at half-
VOL. II F
66 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
past four this morning. All men's debts to their mothers are
great, and it is folly to imagine comparisons with the world of
sons ; but few, I think, can owe what I do. So I feel to-day,
and as yet I do not seem to have begun to feel at alL
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Hill House, Bathford, Bath,
July i6thy 1866.
... I quite agree with you in not regretting the apparent
results of the war as regards at least N. Germany ; and much
as I love Austria (out of Italy), I fear she has not yet
learned her true policy as a reformed ancient power, keeping
in check the purely modem and material systems of France
and Prussia. Cavour was alas ! perhaps as unscrupulous
about means as Bismarck ; but he was a most true and de-
voted patriot, while I cannot discover that Bismarck has any
noble end or noble feeling. If he has, none of his country-
men seem to have recognized it, even when they approve his
policy. In Cavour there was everything to repel a generous
Italian ; yet see how he was and is honoured.
To A Friend
Mount Pleasant, Ilkley, Leeds,
August ^ht 1866.
... On our way to the North we went to Crewe Green,
near the famous Crewe Station, to stay with Mr. EUerton, a
very old friend of mine, and little A.'s godfather. We went
over to the new steel works connected with the Company's
locomotive manufactory, and saw steel made by Bessemer's
process. It was a most beautiful as well as curious sight;
and the process is very simple. The object is to pro-
duce iron combined with a definite proportion of carbon.
Ordinary iron, containing an uncertain amount of carbon,
is melted and poured into a huge heated caldron named
a * converter.' Air is forced by powerful hydraulic pressure
through an apparatus at the bottom of the converter, having
AGE 38 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 67
the ejQfect of the rose of a watering-pot, and thus is driven
in a great number of small streams through the liquid iron.
The supply of oxygen thus brought in contact with the
carbon diffused through the fiery mass produces fresh com-
bustion till all the carbon is exhausted and gone up the
chimney in the form of carbonic acid, and, of course, in
this way the heat is not only kept up but increased When
the carbon is all gone, which is known by a peculiar appear-
ance in the marvellously brilliant flame which roars into the
chimney, the converter is lowered to receive a stream of molten
' Spiegeleisen,' i,e,, I believe, manganate of iron containing a
definite quantity of carbon. This mixes with the pure iron and
converts it instantaneously into steel. The converter is once
more lowered and empties its contents into a huge 'ladle'
on a revolving arm, which in turn drops the steel into a num-
ber of moulds ranged in a segment of a circle. The process
of Doaking steel tires for engine wheels by an invention of the
head of the Crewe works is also curious. The steel is poured
into moulds, out of which it comes in the form of ' buttons,'
of the size and nearly the shape of large cheeses. These are
heated in a gas-furnace, have a hole punched in the middle,
and then are flattened and expanded on an iron table by the flat
sides of rotating cylinders, while another little cylinder keeps
on enlarging the hole in the middle. There is, of course, a
series of cylinders of different sizes brought into play one afler
another, and the last impresses on the edge of the tire a
beautiful clean-cut flange to fit the rails on which the engine
is to run. Occasionally we had to look sharp to avoid the
onsets of an absurd little locomotive called ' Pet,' which runs
in and out on a diminutive tramway carrying iron to and fro.
I have been interested to see the millstone grit here, which
is quite new to me ; but it is barren of fossils. The limestone
comes in near Bolton, and I hope to get a knock at it when
we go to see the Abbey, — ^an excursion for which the weather
has not yet been propitious, though I believe I may say
hundreds drive there almost every day. Indeed the frequency
and size of the trains which come here (and stop here) is sur-
prising. At Burley, the next station, are the mills of Mr. W.
£. Forster, the member for Bradford, a singularly wise and
68 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
excellent manufacturer, who married Arnold's eldest daughter.
We had the pleasure of making their acquaintance in the
Alps six years ago, and I have since once met Mrs. Forster in
Maurice's drawing-room. But I fear they will hardly yet have
returned from London, and it is doubtful whether we shall be
able to see them. We hope, however, to see the early Turners
belonging to Mr. Fawkes a few miles further on, as he is con-
nected with our cousins the Aylmers.
For the loan of Robertson's life my obligations are great
indeed. It is very pleasant to have first read the book in
your copy with your markings ; but of that I will not speak.
You will be glad to hear that my former impression of Robert-
son was greatly altered for the better by his letters. . . .
Almost every page shows both how great and how good a man
Robertson was ; and the whole story, imperfectly as it is given,
is deeply interesting and instructive. He had, like every one
else, some flaws of character. Bodily constitution (and other
causes which Mr. Brooke no doubt does right in concealing)
gave him a morbid fondness for dark views of everything.
Also his total want of humour marks a really important
narrowness of temperament \ his seriousness would gain, not
lose, by some relief. But this amounts only to saying that he
was not perfect I have always been puzzled, and now on
reading this book am more puzzled than ever, at Robertson's
manifestly sincere conviction that he stood alone. All his
beliefs were entirely his own in the truest sense ; and yet he
owed most of them to his own contemporaries ; and, what is
of more consequence, he had the fullest sympathy (even when
not accompanied by complete agreement) of hundreds, includ-
ing various prominent men. Certainly he looked at the outer
world both of Brighton and of England generally through
strangely clouded spectacles.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Ilkley, Leeds, August *]th^ iS66.
. . . Must one hate the poor Pope (who would like to be
a good Italian) because one loves the cause of which Victor
AGB 38 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 69
Emmanuel is the visible sign, and devotion to which seems to
be about the one redeeming trait of his character? No doubt
modem liberalism has a disagreeable prominence and power
in the sum total of the Italian movement ; but is not nearly
all that best deserves the name of religion in Italy included in
the movement ? And then think of the other side.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
27 North Marinb Road, Scarborough,
August 14M, 1866.
... I fear I could not construe iEschylus now. You
certainly have some compensation for drudgery in being com-
pelled to read so much of the great Greeks. Sometimes I
have a yearning to read nothing else, and often seriously think
of assigning them a fixed number of hours per week.
I
To A Friend J
27 North Marine Road, Scarborough,
August isrA, 1866.
. . . The bad weather at Ilkley deprived us of much '
that we might have hoped to see. We neither called on
the Forsters at Burley nor saw the Turners at Famley
Hall. Friday, however, began with sunshine, and so we
resolved at least to secure Bolton. Rain came on just as
we reached the abbey, and from that time heavy showers pre-
vailed through the day, but it was a satisfactory visit neverthe-
less. Architecturally the abbey disappointed me, except the
Early English west front, which is curiously masked by a new
Tudor front built by the last prior. All was ready, or nearly
so, for pulling down the despised work of the thirteenth cen-
tury, when, as it seems, the Dissolution came, and for once pre-
served instead of destroying ! The surroundings of the abbey
are very beautiful without any salient feature. Bolton struck
us especially as pairing admirably with Tintem. They have
little or nothing quite in common, but they are kindred ruins
in kindred scenery. Above the abbey the Wharfe runs
through a fine rocky and wooded glen with endless turns and
70 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
changes. The road winds through the wood for two miles to
the Strid, where the current is confined between great beds of
rock. We walked by a rough and interesting path among the
little crags by the waterside half a mile further up to where a
seat commands an exquisite view up a distant reach of the
river, with Barden Tower in the midst of its woods.
There are many delightful views about this place, our own
among the number, but the bay as seen from the Spa is really
one of the most striking sights I know. The points of in-
terest seem inexhaustible, though I cannot say that we have yet
done much towards attempting to exhaust them. On Sunday
the interior of the old church delighted us. The effect pro-
duced by naked nobleness of form is most striking. We also
greatly enjoyed the services. Mr. Frederick Blunt seems to
be quite in his place here, and to be gradually introducing
order and something like harmony into a sufficiently distracted
place. Was St Martin's -on -the -Hill built when you were
here? It is a most singular church, requiring much more
examination than I have been able to give as yet I cannot
say I at all like it as a whole, but so much thought and care
has been bestowed upon it that even its worst failures are
more interesting than many tame successes would have been.
I have not begun grubbing yet, but am much obliged for your
hint about Peter. Curiously enough, two days after your
letter came one from Mr. Westcott, recommending to me ''a
ragged disreputable Irishman called Peter Cullen as an excel-
lent geological guide," specially to Gristhorpe Bay, "to be
heard of at the donkey stand between the cliffs ; at least," says
Mr. Westcott cautiously, " I found him there."
. . . Poor Queen Bess ! It is presumptuous in me to say
anything about her, for I am sadly behind the world, not
having yet read Motley or Fronde's last two vols. ; and Fronde's
censure must carry weight, considering his former partiality.
But I cannot yet give up the hope that the sadness of her old
age came mainly from the loss of all her worthy counsellors,
and her feeling that the country was passing into ignoble
hands, and its own spirit becoming sadly degraded. Mean
and selfish as I fear she was, she can hardly have been want-
ing in true public spirit
AGE 38 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 71
You were certainly in luck in having to convoy the old
Titan [Sedgwick] through the Royal Academy, though I should
think the attention of bystanders must have been drawn
oftener than was pleasant by growls or roars more forcible
than decorous. But it was an opportunity not to be missed
It is not easy to find racier talk than bubbles or splutters from
him when he is pretty well.
Your account of the pleasure and benefit of Vere Street is,
I think, exactly true. There is always a good chance of hear-
ing something [from Maurice] worth remembering for its own
sake. But that is not what one most cares for. The depth
and inspiration of voice and manner are almost independent
of the matter, and the impression which they leave behind is
something elsewhere unknown. 'Prophetic' is the only
word that describes them. Not long ago a bundle of old
letters of my own came into my hands, and I am tempted to
transcribe part of the account which I find there of my first
hearing Maurice at Lincoln's Inn. The letter is dated
May 26, 1850,^ but it refers to what had taken place at the
beginning of the year. Previously (from 1848) I had had
only correspondence with Maurice.
.......
Having committed the impertinence of quoting myself, I
cannot refrain from amusing you by quoting two bits more on
another subject The dates are June 30 and July 23, 1850.
'' I procured In Metnariam at once. I think it is his worst
thing, though there is much noble in it. But 129 lacka-
daisical laments on the same person cannot but be mono-
tonous and dull, even in his hands," etc. etc etc '*Mac-
millan is very angry with me for saying this, and bids me read
again and again, which of course I shall do." Once more, " I
must read In Memoriam again, but bah ! it has no spring in
it ; the Lyra ApostoKca has more ! " I was well aware that it
was not till some time later that the meaning and value of In
Memoriam became really clear to me, but the discovery of this
sort of language was quite an unexpected revelation, by no
means soothing to one's self-esteem !
It is certainly curious that you have never made acquaint-
^ See vol. i. p. 154.
72 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
ance with the dear old Guesses at Truth before. They seem
now to belong to a bygone period, yet they are always pleasant
reading. There is a want of strength and coherence about
the thoughts which renders them seldom satisfying, but they
are generally refined and graceful, and sometimes valuable.
As a whole I should think they faithfully reflect the good old
Archdeacon, whose influence for good both by what he did
and what he wrote was so singularly great and widespread. I
remember a few years ago reading a very bitter and uncalled
for but not altogether untrue review of the Guesses^ but it
seemed like a personal injury. I am now engaged on Mrs.
Gaskell's Wives and Daughters^ but have not gone far into it.
In the evenings my father is reading aloud the Talisman^
which is a pleasant change from the life of 1866, taking one
back, at all events, half a century, even when it fails to reach
the Crusades. Last night we began the Arabian Palgrave's
big book. One ought not, if possible, to miss so curious a
narrative, but it is rather long to do more than skim.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
27 North Marine Road, Scarborough,
Avgust z^thy 1866.
My dear Lightfoot — Afler the warnings contained in your
two notes, I could hardly be surprised at the sad news from
Trumpington.^ I shall always regret that I did not take more
pains to know Grote well, before leaving Cambridge. All
that I have ever seen of him or read of his writing makes me
feel how great the loss is, not merely to his friends but to us
alL A nobler spirit than that in which he worked one knows
not where to find.
My present object, however, in writing is to speak about
myself. I have been considering whether I should do well to
stand for the vacant professorship, and should be very thank-
ful to have your opinion. The great temptation is that, were
I elected, my proper official work would be such as I could
do much better and with much greater satisfaction to myself
than my present work. The subject to which I should have
1 The death of John Grote.
AGE 38 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 73
to devote myself is one which has always deeply interested
me, and to which I have felt especially drawn during the last
two or three years, so that I had quite made up my mind to
give more time to it, and to write upon it. In knowledge I
am certainly behindhand ; but should hope to be able to qualify
myself in a reasonable time. Of the importance of the subject,
and the fruitfulness of labour bestowed upon it in a right spirit
in the present state of things, I have no doubt whatever. At
the same time I should certainly not abandon theology and
criticism. I am ph3rsically incapable of giving anything IDce all
my working hours to speculative matters, and the alternation
would be profitable both ways. Cambridge itself has also its
own attractions of various kinds, which I need not enumerate.
On the other hand, the change would involve considerable
sacrifices, which are for the most part denoted by the two
words 'home* and 'country.' The restrictions incidental
to Cambridge and Cambridge society would sadly limit
enjoyments which are much more than enjoyments. And the
same may be said about the probable banishment from the
quiet life among trees and fields, which seems to become more
precious every year. . . .
You will see by what I have written the chief considera-
tions which weigh with me on both sides. I have said
nothing about the pain of leaving a place and people to
which and whom we have become much attached, or again
the pleasure of becoming once more a part of the working
university; because these are after all not the grounds on which
one must act, however strongly they are felt. Now I shall be
most thankful for your sincere opinion on the whole matter.
As you and Westcott are together, I have not written to
him separately ; but I shall be much obliged if you will show
him this letter, and if he will let me know his feeling in the
matter.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Walworth Castle, Darlington,
September %th, 1866.
... Of Browning I have not read much ; and, truth to
say, admire more than I enjoy. The real strength is un-
74 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
deniable ; but I get irritated beyond measure by the hollow
affectation of strength shown in gratuitous and unmeaning
obscurities and other forms of bad language. But one ought
to be more tolerant with a man who has so much beside this ;
and I mean some time to try to be ; at least so far as to read
him. Certainly the ancient classical world has indeed become
unknown in many important respects, though it still pours
forth some of the best influences that we have. But how
little can it be summed up in an antithesis 1
Alas! we did and did not go to Gristhorpe. When I
called on Peter CuUen, the tide was unfavourable till the next
week ; so we merely went and had a delightful day on the
sands, seeing the section and hammering at Combrash and,
not least, enjoying Peter himself who is surely a true York-
shireman.
To A Friend
Walworth Castle, Darlington,
September 12M, 1866.
It is quite time that you should hear something of a
possible change, the thought of which has been exciting
us much for some little time past The chair of Moral
Philosophy at Cambridge has become vacant by the untimely
death of Professor Grote, a far more serious public loss
than is suspected outside a small circle of friends. After
much hesitation I have decided to be a candidate ; provided
at least that the University is able and willing to raise the
present meagre salary to the recent standard of professorial
incomes ; otherwise the expense of living in Cambridge would
be more than we could afford. You can well imagine what
conflicting thoughts we have had in contemplating such a
step. I have long known that most of my intimate friends
desired to see me placed at Cambridge, and thought that
I had a better chance of usefulness there than elsewhere.
The chief determining motive has, however, been of a more
personal nature. Owing to peculiarities of temperament
partly but not wholly connected with health, I have never, to
speak plainly, been able to adapt myself properly to parochial
AGE 38 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 75
work. With the highest sense of its dignity and importance
in itself, as well as of the great personal benefit which must
come firom familiarity with it, I have most unwillingly been
compelled to doubt my own fitness for it Of course any one
with a conscience must always feel how far his performances
fall short of his standard ; but there is a sense of dissatisfaction
which is quite different from this feeling, and which seems to
serve no good purpose. It takes away the spring which more
than anything else renders work effectual, and it is wearing
and deadening to health and spirits. Of course one does
one's best to forget all this when there is no prospect of
amendment ; and, if I fail in the present contest, I shall hope
to be able to go on cheerfully as before and try to do my best
where I am. The change would involve some serious
sacrifices of personal enjoyment and comfort Cambridge of
course has great and obvious advantages. But we cannot
without a severe pang give up the peace and refreshment of
garden and country, and submit to the restraints upon home
life unavoidable in a town and in the midst of a very mixed
society. But the first duty seems to be to seize the oppor-
tunity, which will not easily occur again, of obtaining if
possible a regular employment which is congenial, and in
which, therefore, one has the best hope of producing some
results.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, October iiM, 1866.
... I should be reluctant to offer myself for the Pro-
fessorship if I supposed that owing to health or anything else
I should be confined to a regular delivery of the minimum
of lectures and to taking part in the requisite examinations.
Certainly I should not like to attempt too much at first,
especially as it would require some little time to regain lost
ground in knowledge of the literature of philosophy. But it
would be my decided wish and intention to do all in my
power for the promotion of the study of a subject which has
always had the strongest attractions for me. I should also
hope to take an active part in University business, if it came
76 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
in my way. All this I believe to be quite compatible with
my present state of health, much more with what I have good
reason to hope it will be two or three years hence. In a
word, I am confident that I am not offering to undertake
duties which I should be unable to perform.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, October 15M, 1866.
... I only partly pity you, having long desired to make
closer acquaintance with Positive Religion, a most interesting
product of the nineteenth century, erected, if I remember right,
sur les mines du monothkisme kpuisL But I have a respite. I
began to take in the Politique Positive when it first appeared.
To A Friend
St. Ippolyts, October 7.^th^ 1866.
One line I must send you to tell you the result of the
election. This morning I was not elected, and — Maurice
was! You will open your eyes at this, and indeed you
well may. I have had so much writing to do, and post is
so near, that I can only write very hurriedly. . . . Ten days
ago Maurice had not heard of the vacancy. Mr. Davies told
him, and suggested his trying. He asked who were the
candidates, but could not learn. Had he known, said his
sister, Mrs. Powell (happily he did not !), that I was standing,
he would certainly have withdrawn. At first he was reluctant,
but warm letters from Cambridge made him throw himself
heartily into the plan. That is the substance of all we know.
I was at the station from a quarter to eleven this morning,
awaiting Dr. Lightfoot's telegram. In two hours it came, but
without particulars.
I have only time to say that one can think now only of
Maurice being at Cambridge. It is a great blessing for the
place, and I hope also for him, even if he finds more difiS-
culties there than some of his friends may anticipate. For
the last few days we had almost no hope, so that there was
AGE 38 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 77
little room for disappointment, even were there not such great
ground for rejoicing that Maurice's merits have at last been
so signally acknowledged I feel shocked at having been even
for a wedk in competition with him ; yet, under the circum-
stances, it was inevitable, for I looked upon his candidature as
the madness of some too zealous friend, and anticipated for
him only bitter mortification, which to a man of his years and
position would have been cruel Happily a majority of the
electors were wiser and braver than I thought. — Always truly
yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. Dr- Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, October 25M, 1866.
For several days past hope had been at so very low an
ebb that I believe your message made me as glad as sorry.
My misgivings remain as to Maurice acquiring as much
influence as his more sanguine friends anticipate, but apart
from his ' claims,' which are incontestably far above those of
every other candidate, one cannot but feel that his presence
will be a true blessing to Cambridge, and I hope Cambridge a
happy home to him. I do trust he will receive a cordial
welcome. Few men deserve it more, and few would prize it
more.
To HIS Wife
Trinity College, Cambridge, Dectmber ^hy 1866.
5.40 P.M.
. . . Lightfoot had, I think, eight to breakfast, and that
was pleasant Then I went with John Mayor and Norris to
see the new Chapel of St. John's, and with the former to his
rooms ; left a card on Beaumont, and another on Thompson.
Then I had some quiet time in Trinity Library, and just got
a very few minutes with Bradshaw in the University Library
before going into the Senate House. I had a seat next to
Arthur Blunt and Venn. It was a great sight to see Maurice
stand up to lecture.^ He was most warmly received and
1 The lecture referred to was Maurice's Inaugural Lecture as Knights-
bridge Professor.
78 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
without a single sign of disapprobation. It was a very interest-
ing and ingenious lecture, rising in parts into great fervour and
loftiness. It seemed to make a very good impression.
After some little chat with Lightfoot I went with him by
appointment to fetch Maurice for a walk, from which we have
just returned. Exceedingly pleasant it has been.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, February 2ij/, 1867.
. . . You will, I daresay, hear all you will care to
hear about the curious vicissitudes of the Professorship
from Blunt At all events they can wait till we meet
Utterly astonished as I and almost every one was at the
courage of a majority of the electors (now virtually endorsed
by the whole body), I could not help rejoicing at it
very much. ... I do think that Maurice's influence in
the University generally will be both great and beneficial
And for his own sake one must rejoice unfeignedly at his
success. He may find himself less able to do good than
his more sanguine friends lead him to expect, but he has
a congenial post in the place of his oldest affections, and
above all he feels that the Jelfian doom is now reversed by
a higher Cour de Cassation. This last thought has already
made another man of him. To be condemned by authority
was always to him the cruellest of blows, and now a far worthier
authority has chosen him out for honour. To myself it would
have been peculiarly painful to be elected over his head, if it
had turned out that he would otherwise have had a reasonable
chance of success. So all is better as it is. I went up to his
Inaugural Lecture, which was very interesting and very
characteristic. It was all founded on a misinterpretation
of his title of office, yet the distribution of subjects so
obtained was a really good on^ and it involved a curious
appropriation of the word Casuistry to denote the one
aspect of Moral Science for which he has much care, apart at
least from theology. It was a great sight to see his dear old
head uttering oracles out of the very peculiar bema of the
AGE 38 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 79
senate -house in such a large assemblage, and to hear the
unbroken cheers which greeted him.
I hardly know whether to be glad that I came forward or
not Lightfoot was very desirous that I should, if I wished to
try at any futiure time for any post at Cambridge, and so I
suppose it was the right thing to do. I think the result has
been to draw me into a closer connexion with Cambridge than
before, though not to any great degree, and certainly to revive
in a strong degree my old fondness for philosophy proper, and
make me anxious to make it a serious and constant study.
On the other hand, I fear I must say that the whole business
has had an unsettling effect as to this place. I try to go
blindly ahead and do the work of the day as well as I can
(which is not saying much) ; but I am less than ever able to
look upon it as a permanent occupation, while at the same
time there is not the least prospect of any other coming within
reach. However, suflBcient unto the day
I have not seen the International Essays,^ or The Church
and the World^ or the Eirenicon^ so pity my darkness. Parts
of all must be well worth reading ; and even Comtist rubbish
(not to speak of Comtist sense) has its interest I want
particularly to see the feminine contribution to The Church
and the World; it apparently contains, if not as new a religion
as the Comtism, at least one as far removed from anything
anywhere reflected in the New Testament, to say nothing of
the Old Testament Touching Lightfoot's Galatians, . ; .
Certainly his doctrinal comments are far from satisfying me.
They belong far too much to the mere Protestant version of
St Paul's thoughts, however Christianized and rationalized.
One misses the real attempt to fathom St Paul's own mind,
and to compare it with the facts of life which one finds in
Jowett On the other hand, he is surely always admirable on
historical ground, and especially in interpreting passages which
afford indirect historical evidence, as also in all matters of
grammar and language and such like essential externalities.
Davies said to me in Switzerland that it was very learned, and
^ By English Positivists.
^ A series of essays, edited by the Rev. O. Shipley.
» By Dr. Pusey.
8o FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
very wise, and very moderate, and very perfect every way ; but
he wished for a little more imperfection, and I am afraid that
carnal aspiration is not altogether to be condemned
... I had not expected much from the Conference,^ yet
even so was disappointed. Hardly anything, it seemed, came
out about the real causes why artisans do not attend church or
chapeL Nearly all the reasons given were manifestly either
false or delusive. On the other hand, there was some un-
deniable evidence — not of the pleasantest kind — ^about the
thoughts current among the artisans just now on other matters.
The social bitterness came out as plainly there as in the Reform
manifestation or the Eyre ^ controversy. It was disheartening
also and bewildering to see the strange ignorance and blindness
of shrewd men to plain facts daily surrounding them, and their
complete enslavement to their own lecturers and newspapers.
All this certainly does not excuse that article in the Saturday
Review^ the tone of which was quite indefensible ; but I cannot
think they were wrong in their inferences. One does and
must hope that artisan constituencies will introduce new and
valuable veins of thought and feeling into the standard notions
of the House of Commons. But surely from that point of
view that singular Conference was not promising. There was
hardly a trace of a wise or generous feeling which was not a
class feeling. ... If only Gladstone will continue to keep his
temper ! More rests with him than with any man. If he is
wise, he can equally call out the true patriotic and sympathetic
feeling which is also widely spread in the upper classes :
whether in the middle or in the lower is not so clear. In spite
of the great and growing evil in the upper classes, I feel more
strongly than ever that, if their virtual supremacy is destroyed,
the history of England is nearly at an end. It cannot then
be long before we become a bone over which France and
America may fight, as Syria and Egypt fought over Palestine.
1 See Guardian of January 30th, 1867. A Conference held at the
London Coffee House, to which a number of religious men of various
denominations, lay and clerical (including Maurice, Dean Stanley, Mr. T.
Hughes, and Mr. Newman HaU), invited some sixty working men to come
and state their reasons for not attending church or chapel.
* See Life of C KingsUy^ vol. ii. p. 235.
AGS 38 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 8i
For reasons, an uncharitable man would say, best known to
yourself, St. James has made no progress : however, I fear he
would have slumbered in any case. The winter is going fast
and leaving sadly few written results. I have done a little
text, but not much. I am rather thinking, if I can manage
enough continuous work, of writing and printing separately the
essays on Religion and its Substitutes and on Prayer^ which I
designed to accompany St James. I should like to publish
this year, but am not sanguine about completion. Just now I
am trying whether I can put into shape (probably for Mcu:-
miUafis Magazine) a paper ^ on ThirlwalPs and Mill's addresses
on Education, and die relations of Science and Literature.
But I seem unable to make progress with anything.
To A Lady
(Who had recently joined the Church of England from the Society
of Friends)
St. Ippolyts, February 2Srd, 1867.
... It seems to me a clear duty to conform to the
practice of the Church to which we belong, where we do
not feel it to be mischievous and wrong ; and I am sure you
would not object to Confirmation in such cases as yours as
anything worse than superfluous. But secondly, I think we
may find a distinct meaning and a true benefit in it even in
these cases. Whatever else Confirmation may be, it is a
solemn Christian entrance on the responsibilities of mature
lifcL Baptism chiefly concerns us as to what we are^ Confirma-
tion as to what we do. Baptism assures us that we are children
of God, members of Christ and His body, and heirs of the
heavenly kingdom. But when we reach manhood or woman-
hood, we enter on a world of duties far more distinctly than
before ; we begin to have works to do for our Lord and our
brethren. For these new tasks we need special help, and this
is what Confirmation gives us. It is an assurance of active
* gifts of grace,' varied helps from the One Spirit, a spirit of
'wisdom,' of * strength,' of *holy fear,' meeting all our own
^ Only a fragment of this paper was written.
VOL. II G
82 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
efforts and giving them power from on high. Confirmation
reminds us strongly that Baptism is not so much a single
event, accomplished once for all, as the beginning of a life
which calls for daily rekindling and renewal. Doubtless we
have no right to say that the unconfirmed receive no such
strengthening from the Spirit, any more than we dare say that
the unbaptized are strangers to God and His kingdom. But
there is a clear benefit in taking advantage of the outward
expression of this ' grace,' not only because it is our duty as
Churchmen (though that is not really a small matter), but
because the tangibleness of the outward form gives us true
assistance by enabling us to take hold of the blessing, to use it
confidently as our own. — Believe me, sincerely yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, May znd^ 1867.
... I tried hard to impress on the fallacy of
supposing that much real education is to be got out of natural
science, except to a moderate degree out of natural history and
chemistry, because there alone can you have an adequate
supply of problems within the reach of boys.
... I seem to have got through nothing all the winter
except H. Dixon's interesting but exasperating New America ;
and daily I fret and fume at the way that months flit away with
nothing done. All I have heard of Comte is most alluring,
and I frequently resolve to work him thoroughly, knowing that
it will be not wasted time. But with no time to waste life is
simply Tantalic
To the Rev. B. F. WESTCorr
EcKiNGTON House, Cheltenham,
July 12M, 1867.
... On looking back I do not find much to say about
the Rugby day,^ though at the time it was strangely impressive;
* The Tercentenary Festival.
AGE 39 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 83
certainly to myself, and, I think, to others. ... It is undeniably
true that the Bishop of London was the principal figure,
though Stanley and Temple were very delightful. The
Guardian gave a very fair report of his speech. It was not
specially original, but carefully and forcibly worded, and
delivered with the emphasis of strong conviction. Every word
struck home.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Hotel du Glacier du Rhone, Gletsch par Brigub,
Valais, Switzerland, August $th, 1867.
... At Paris I learned that my possessions would
not arrive till after the departure of the night express for
Basel. I had nothing for it therefore but to drive to the
Hotel du Louvre with what I had in my hand, and stay
in Paris twenty-four hours. Of course I devoted next day
to the Exhibition, which I had no strong desire to see,
and do not now feel much happier at having seen. It is
probably well enough for detailed study of special industries ;
but it is throughout absolutely unimpressive. Of course I
gave most of my time to the pictures, which were undeniably
worth seeing, though there was a universal absence of greatness.
No foreign school out of France was well represented anything
like as well as in our Exhibition of 1 862 ; even the Low Countries
sent only some fair examples of Alma Tadema and Israels, at
least as far as I could see. The English gallery it is the fashion
to abuse. Certainly nothing best of our best painters is there,
but there is not much of our worst, and a reasonable average
impression of the school as it now exists is presented to
foreigners. Among the few American pictures I ought to
mention Church's * Niagara' and a Bierstedt's * Rocky
Mountains,' as also two striking portraits of Lincoln and
Sherman. The real interest belongs to the French galleries.
There too there is an absence of real greatness ; but one gets
a fair selection from the salons of several years, and the result
is not flattering to Trafalgar Square. The prevalence of good
drawing, good taste, and often genuine feeling is very striking.
84 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
though of course there are frightful exceptions. I was especially
glad to see a good series of G^romes. His cynicism is startling
and not altogether admirable; still it is something that a
popular Frenchman of so much power should at least show a
spirit like Juvenal's. In our own Academy it is becoming
difBcult to discover feeling of any kind.
. . . The abundant patches of snow all about the Furka
induced me to come on to this very nice hotel. Its height is
250 feet below the 6000 which I try now to make a minimum;
but the glacier half a mile off gives abundant compensation.
The air is magnificent and quite cool enough to be pleasant —
decidedly cooler, a young Prussian told me yesterday, than the
Eiffel, from which he had just come. The flowers are in full
beauty. I have found very little new, but there is quite
enough to occupy me. We have three daily papers, the
Bund (of Bern, the leading Swiss paper), the eminently
respectable Journal de Gentve^ and Gaiignani. For other
reading I have brought with me more than enough, the Duke
of Argyll's Reign of Law, which will at least suggest some
things requiring to be said at some time ; a couple of volumes
of Comte ; one of Mill ; Novalis (many years nibbled at and
never properly read); Clement of Alexandria and half
Epiphanius ; and two things picked up on the way, V. Hugo's
Lkgende des Sikles, and a curious pamphlet by £. Sue and
Quinet on ' The Religious Question.' The Greek Fathers are
for a purpose that I forget whether I have mentioned to you.
Dr. Smith is preparing for a Dictionary of Christian Antiquities
(from the N. T. — exclusive — to Charles the Great). Westcott
and Lightfoot have happily got the virtual controul, and have
reserved for their own express editorship the department of
Biography, Literature, and Doctrine. After some discussion
it is agreed that I am to take the Gnostics and the Greek
Fathers who treat of them, specially Irenaeus, Hippolytus, and
Epiphanius. They talk of beginning to print in about a year,
so that it will be hard work to be ready ; not to speak of small
articles. Bardesanes and Basilides come inconveniently early.
Westcott and Lightfoot urgently entreat me to be perfiinctory
and eschew exhaustiveness ; but that is easier said than done.
Besides the German treatises which must be read, the ancient
AGE 39 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 85
sources require very minute criticism to yield anything like
trustworthy results. I am now working up carefully a very
important book published but two years ago, which completely
transforms our knowledge of the relations between the different
early authorities, and thereby sets the whole subject in an
entirely new light. The proposal to take part in the Dictionary
was on all accounts impossible to reject ; and the work will
be most interesting. But I groan over the distraction from
other things. The text is clamouring to be finished. I am
most eager to write and print separately the essay which I
mentioned to you long ago as likely to be attached to 5/.
James, on 'Religion and its Substitutes.' It haunts me
perpetually, and^ yet I find it most hard to get anything on
paper. Then not least I want extremely to find time to work
at philosophy in earnest Thus I am torn in I know not how
many directions at once, and seem to make little progress
in any.
M. Arnold on Culture I have, alas ! seen only at second
hand. I am curious about H. Sidgwick's onslaught (for so it
must be) announced just as I left England. In a stray
number of the Spectator I read what seemed to be a very just
estimate of the original deliverance. Did you read F.
Harrison's very remarkable manifesto on Reform on the part
of the young Comtians in the Fortnightly ? A few lines there
acted, I imagine, as a stimulus to M. Arnold. The fanaticism
of those sweet youths not only is startling, but may breed
serious mischief in the present ill-omened mood of the working
classes ; yet on the whole it is refreshing and hopeful Any
savour of life and assertion is acceptable now in the strange
atmosphere of negativity which has settled on England.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Rhone Glacier, August 2^tht 1867.
. . . Proportion, yes, it is the indispensable basis, and how
hard to reach ! Yet all advance is by transgressing it, at least
as the first step. But you do right to preach*
86 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, October 30M, 1867.
... I have about a fortnight for setting half of nine
papers ^ and an undefined proportion of three more in fourteen
authors (one of them Pkttds Moral Dialogues t) plus the whole
history of philosophy. The only comfort is that audacious
ignorance sometimes will do the work of knowledge ; but then
how to summon up the requisite audacity? The subject is
always delightful, but I do not want it as relief just now. Text
and the Gnostics amply suffice.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, October iStA, 1867.
... I hope I may be able to send your essay ^ to-night ;
if not, to bring it As far as my very imperfect knowledge
goes, your historical account seems to me substantially the
true one, though I have ventured to criticise some details. I
wish we were more agreed on the doctrinal part ; but you
know I am a staunch sacerdotalist, and there is not much
profit in arguing about first principles.
To A Friend
St. Ifvolyts, /anuary i6th, 1868.
. . . You certainly are not to like anything that you don'f
like. But I think you will like this poem^ better on the
second or third reading. The last division seems to me
likewise the best, except perhaps pp. 18-20; and there
are some very good single stanzas or more elsewhere. I
should not call it a very great poem ; but I think there is
^ For the Moral Sciences Tripos.
^ Apparently that on 'The Christian Ministry,* published in Light-
foot's edition of the Philippians,
3 Mr. F. W. H. Myers' St. Paul
AGE 39 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 87
much true and uncommon poetry in it. It is not an imitation
of any one else, and yet it is free from extravagance and
eccentricity. There is also (with a few exceptions) a specially
commendable absence of merely ornamental language, and yet
no prose. I am afraid I cannot agree with you about St
Paul himself being the speaker. Surely for purposes of poetry
(and for the purest and subtlest representation) this dramatic
monologue is the best adapted. A description of St. Paul's
mind would be very difficult to make into a poem. The
truth of the representation is another matter. There certainly
I should complain that only a fragment of St. Paul's nature is
given ; one might almost say, a fragment of the feeling of the
Epistles to the Corinthians. Still that fragment is treated
with real sympathy and occasional passioa There is a self-
consciousness, but it is not often obtrusive. It is so unusual
to come across anything of what is called religious poetry
which is not simply detestable, that a combination of real
imaginative thought, high feeling, and pure poetic form has at
least the charm of novelty.
I believe I have not written to you since the Cambridge
episode. It came very unexpectedly. One morning I had a
note from Dr. Lightfoot, an old and intimate friend, asking if I
would serve in place of Mr. Mozley, who was obliged to
throw up his office ^ for the second of his two years. I wrote
in half an hour, but was already elected The notice was
cruelly short, and I could ill spare the time. But it would
have been wrong to have thrown away such an opportunity of
being brought up to Cambridge officially, and in connexion
with philosophical subjects. There were, moreover, the in-
ducements of Cambridge itself of being compelled to plunge
again into much cherished but neglected pursuits, and not
least of being associated with Maurice. (I ought by the
way to say that he was elected for 1 867-68 ; I — as Mr. Mozley's
ghost — ^for 1866-67. This explains Maurice's name appearing
after mine.) Maurice and I had charge of Moral Philosophy,
Mental Philosophy, and Logic In these subjects we had
nine papers to set. We had also a share in two essay papers,
and the same (or rather the lion's) in the closing paper on the
1 Viz. of examiner for the Moral Sciences Tripos.
88 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
History of Philosophy. It took above a fortnight of very
hard work to get the papers set, preceded by a visit to
Cambridge to make arrangements, and followed by another
for a joint revision of papers by all the examiners. Then
came a very pleasant week at Cambridge for the examination
itself; then another more than week of hard work in looking
over (in the early part of which some troublesome business
intervened) ; and lastly a fourth visit to Cambridge to add up
marks, arrange and bring out the list, dine with the examiners
and others, and attend a meeting of the Board of Moral
Sciences (of which I am a member for nearly a year) next day.
Every one was most cordial ; and I seemed in a manner once
more to belong to the place. But I cannot honestly say that
I see any prospect at present of a nearer connexion with it
Perhaps the most deeply interesting part of the whole was
the crisis through which Dr. Lightfoot was passing at the
time of one of the visits. Lord Derby, a perfect stranger,
offered him the bishopric of Lichfield. To have accepted it
would have been to him a most painful sacrifice ; but this only
made the inward struggle more severe. The very few friends
whom he consulted almost all urged him with all their force to
accept it : the pressure was very strong from two at least, who
from their position in the Church and their character had the
strongest claim to be listened to, and who vehemently adjured
him for the sake of the Church not to refuse. They not only
knew (in common with all his friends) how admirable a bishop
he would make, but felt that no one living could be of greater
service at this critical time, when there is so much danger of
the Church splitting in pieces, both by holding different
parties together, and by opposing his own liberality, learning,
and strong Christian feeling to the efforts now being made
(through the Lambeth Conference and otherwise) to crush
freedom of opinion in the Church. On the other hand, he
was firmly convinced that (for the present at least) he should
be able to render the Church greater and more lasting good
at Cambridge than as bishop. After the first minute or two,
I agreed with him. Life is once more stirring at Cambridge
in various active ways ; and the ferment will be yet greater if,
as I trust, a wider sphere of action is presently opened to the
AGE 39 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 89
University. Dr. Lightfoot is not speculative enough or eager
enough to be a leader of thought But his mere presence is
a great mediating power, and his remarkable position as
looked up to by every one is such as nobody else could
fill.
On my last day I saw Kingsley, for the first time for a
great many years. Indeed I had hardly seen him since 185 1,
when I first made his acquaintance. Unfortunately he had
to go off almost immediately before we had exchanged more
than a few words. Later in the day I hunted for him through
the town, but in vain.
You can imagine how pleasant it was being with Maurice
so much and under such circumstances. But there is not
much to say about it I heard two of his lectures, full of
good matter and brilliantly written, but miserably attended.
1 fancy he has been lecturing too often. Few graduates have
time to attend many lectures, but I was disappointed not to
see more of the younger men. As mere pieces of vigorous
and pungent criticism I should have thought the lectures
would have attracted even those who did not care for the
doctrines. However he has met with a most friendly re-
ception firom all but the most narrow-minded people. He and
Mrs. Maurice said so repeatedly ; and I heard the same from
others.
Dear old Sedgwick I met once in the Great Court of
Trinity with his respirator over his mouth. What was visible
of him looked not much older than twenty years ago, and he
is lecturing as ever, having grown tired of giving farewell
courses. I was sorry afterwards that I had not called on
him ; but really it was no easy matter to find time for any-
thing.
We have been a good deal interested about Haileybury,
which our firiend Mr. Arthur Butler has unfortunately had to
give up from ill health. At least five friends of mine were
among the candidates. The successful candidate, Mr. Bradby,
now a master at Harrow, was a Uttle senior to me in my house
at Rugby, and I owe him a great deal, though we have never
been very intimate. He will, I think, make an admirable
Headmaster.
90 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. IVFOIYTS, /anuary 2ix/, 1868.
. . . Joseph Mayor has been with us from Friday to
yesterday. Shortly before starting he urged me to offer my-
self for the Hulsean Lectureship, mainly to keep my name
before Cambridge. I had hardly given the matter a thought,
supposing my chance nil, and not wishing to take on further
work ; having moreover a growing dislike to the position of an
avowed and official apologist. . . .
Chances apart, I am in very great doubt I think I may
say that I would not make the attempt, if it were necessary to
take in hand a fresh subject Nothing but some very distinct
call seems to justify that Nothing as yet has occurred to me
connected directly with the New Testament or early, antiquity
which offers a tolerable subject It would on the other hand
be no loss of time — perhaps the reverse — if I could do anything
with the long-meditated 'Religion and its Substitutes.' But
there are difficulties. Much has to be said which I could not
preach, or add as notes to sermons. Yet more, the book
would fail of much of its purpose if it were in the Hulsean
Lecture form : it would create against itself an invincible
prejudice in those whom I should most wish to read it On
the other hand, the Calendar says nothing about printing under
the new regulations. Would it be possible to deliver four
lectures on the principal points of such parts of the book as
would be ad Christiafios, and then use them as materials, and
nothing more, in a book with no ' Hulsean ' brand ? Yet again
would the relations of religion to theology, morality, and ritual
come under " the evidence for revealed religion," or the explain-
ing of " some of the most difficult texts or obscure parts of Holy
Scripture " ?
To the Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. IvvoLYTSf /anuary 30/^, 1868.
. . . Have you seen Mark Pattison's book?/ I have not
finished, much less digested it The proposals are startling,
^ Suggestions on Academital OrganiscUion, 1868.
AGE 39 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 91
but deserve ample consideration. It is a mature and solid
book on any view. The main purpose is the organization of
the University as a learned body, appropriating for that purpose
a large part of the sources which have come to be devoted to
teaching and its adjuncts^ Pattison's picture of the non-textual
part of Oxford 'greatgo' Classics (really pantosophy) is amazing.
He cannot restrain a certain admiration for so wonderful a
creation ; but it is, as he says, a splendid * Sophistik ' in the
worst sense. I wish I could have a talk with you about the
'spiritual power' which you propose to organize at Cam-
bridge. I confess my thoughts are misty. You cannot mean
an ecclesiastical organization ; and I think you would hardly
call even a combined influence merely personal an organiza-
tion. But I can imagine a valuable spiritual power grafted on
an organization of knowledge. Am I quite at sea ? I fear so.
You may perhaps find time to look over some S/oges of a
remarkable man, Dr. Bouley, before I return them to Paris -,
so I send them by this post. I heard of him this summer
from a friend of his, and looked forward with much interest
to knowing him and the work which has been now cut off.
Besides what you will read in the statements of his friends,
which do not appear to have been exaggerated, he was speci-
ally interested in German and English theology and philosophy,
and deeply read in alL He was a Christian of, I ga^er,
Ullmann's type, greatly looked up to not only by men of
science but by littSrcUeurs and philosophers, who were accus-
tomed to ask his advice constantly. Among his intimate
friends and clients was Renan, whom he used to call ^pauvre
Renan' Altogether he must have combined many things
rarely seen together anywhere, least of all in Paris.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
(On the loss of a child)
St. lpPOLYTS,/<m«a;y 31J/, 1868.
My dear Westcott — I can but send you and Mrs. West-
cott our warmest sympathy. Mrs. Hort well remembers the
little child and her brightness. It is indeed a bewildering
92 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
Stroke. There is surely nothing in which it is so necessary to
let the contradiction lie unreconciled. We are surrounded with
such darkness on either side. We can but trust both nature
and the Conqueror-Redeemer of nature. — Ever yours affec-
tionately, F. J. A. HoRT.
To THE Rev. E. H. Plumptre
St. Ippolyts, Hitchin, March ^rd, 1868.
My dear Sir — I have been thinking over your kind pro-
posal that I should write in the Contemporary Review. Much
that I might say would be quite in harmony with what appears
to me to be die general spirit of the leading contributors.
My own position probably differs somewhat from theirs.
Middle ways have less attraction for me than the attempt to
combine extremes ; and my centre of gravity, so to speak, is
I imagine nearer to the ' Liberal ' side on most questions than
that of your Review, I wish to mention these differences, if
such they are, at the outset ; but they would not at all prevent
me from cordially co-operating with a periodical which seems
to me to be doing an admirable work, and of course I should
fully recognise the reasonable conditions of self-restraint which
all such co-operation implies.
At the present moment however I fear that I ought not to
make any definite engagement, simply for want of time. I
have always more things on hand at once than I can manage,
and just now I am specially pressed by two pieces of work,
— the Greek text of the N. T. which Westcott and I have
been employed upon for many years, and which is very slowly
passing through the press, — and the new Dictionary of Christian
Antiquities^ in which I have undertaken the articles connected
with Gnosticism and its chief antagonists. This latter subject
is of course not new to me ; but it requires at starting much
detailed study which will I hope soon be unnecessary. Papers
on some points of mere criticism which arise by the way will
probably go into the reviving C2jnhnd^gQ Journal of Philology ;
and it is not unlikely that subjects may occur for articles of a
wider interest, should you think it worth your while to accept
AGB 39 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 93
them. Westcott is always urging me to write on matters of
pure speculation, for which I much crave some mental leisure.
If he succeeds in his efforts, the result ought probably to take
an independent shape ; but there again detached points might
find a place in the Contemporary.
I observe you specially mention education. That is a
subject in which I take a keen interest at all times, but
especially just now. But I have some doubt whether your
readers are the dass for whom I could write with most ad-
vantage on this and some other important matters. The
bridge over the fatal chasm between the Church and the old
world generaUy on the one side and Young England on the
other has to be built from both ends. The two processes have
a common purpose, but they are not identical, and my own
impulse is chiefly to try to speak to the Liberals.
Forgive this egotistical letter, which may perhaps preclude
misunderstanding hereafter. I may be thankful to be allowed
to contribute to your Review from time to time, as you have
so kindly asked me. But I could not make any more distinct
promise now without much risk of either disappointing you
or overburdening myself or both at once. — I am very truly
yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, March \^tk^ 1868.
... I am afraid just now I have not time to go into the
history of the names ' hymn,' etc It will certainly be a long
business. From what you say I suspect that Augustine
copied Ambrose, and Ambrose Origen. The patristic dis-
tinctions probably arose out of attempts to explain the force
of the LXX. versions of the Hebrew inscriptions of the
Psalms, perhaps not without reference to Eph. v. 19, Col.
iii. 16. Whether the distinctions came from Greek gram-
marians originally, it would take some time to ascertain, but
I much doubt it The name v/avoi is applied to one class
of Pindar's (lost) poems, and Boeckh evidently has not much
to say about them. But he quotes the grammarian Didymus
94 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
as stating that a stantibus ad citharam canebantuTy and a
vague passage in Athenaeus about hymns being sometimes
danced, sometimes not I have this moment found that I
had the means of following up a reference to the Chresto-
mathy of Proclus {the Proclus). It is summarised by Photius
{BibL cod. 239, pp. 319 f Bekker), and is worth quoting.
[Here follows a quotation from Proclus.]
The passage confirms your view, by laying down that (i)
hymns were to Gods, (2) that it is a generic term including
prosodiay paans^ and the rest It is not distinctly stated that
the mode of address is praise ; but my impression is that that
is the proper early Greek meaning of the word.
... I want much, if I can, to say a word in some maga-
zine on behalf of M. Pattison's invaluable book on University
Reform. But I don't know how to get anything written or
accepted. He sees clearly, as I fear few do, that all improve-
ments in teaching or extension are trivial compared with
converting the Universities into places of teaming, with an
active and full intellectual life. For such an end I am pre-
pared to be very revolutionary. — Ever affectionately yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, A f arch \6th, 1868.
[Postscript^
Tuesday Morning. — Your letter and petition * just come.
The latter is admirably worded, and has my strong sympathy,
but I fear I cannot sign it It exactly expresses what has
been my view till lately. Now I have come to the conviction
that the Colleges as well as the University must be thrown
open. If we resist that, I think we are throwing away a mag-
nificent opportunity. What we want now is, not petty im-
provements, but larger aims altogether. I am not at all
insensible to the immediate evils and future dangers of the
change, but I am hopeful about their being surmounted. A
^ Concerning the abolition of religious tests at Cambridge.
AGB 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 95
powerful current is already in motion in public opinion against
doctrinaire secularism. If we are wise now, I think we may
keep our position as the standard 'denomination/ though
not as the exclusive one ; and if so, the most important parts
of the religious machinery may be preserved, and I believe
neither Church nor religion will suflfer in the long-run. Even
if the doctrinaire view prevails, I believe we ought to run the
risk.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, April 22nd, 1868.
. . . Surely the Irish Church ought to go, now that the
demand is made (though I prefer Lord Grey to Gladstone).
There are times and circumstances when the appearance of
justice has higher claims than justice itself. I don't in the
least expect that the sacrifice will settle Za question Irlandaise,
but it seems an indispensable preliminary, and the gain in our
foreign relations will be immense at once.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, April 2<)tk, 1868.
Your sheets reached me at the right time, but I have not
been able to read them till to-day. I have made a few little
notes, but, as far as my imperfect knowledge goes, I think the
essay ^ is substantially right. The only important point where,
with my present lights, I should venture to differ, would be
as to the Oriental origin of Stoicism and the supposed results
of this fact Of course the fact that the early Stoics were for
the most part not pure Greeks, and often came from Shemitic
populations, is a striking one ; but I cannot trace the conse-
quences in Stoicism.
(i) What evidence is there that Shemitic races in general
had a strong 'religious consciousness'? Acts of devotion
or superstition were natural to them, but surely not verbal
utterances.
1 'St Paul and Seneca,* published in Lightfoot's edition of the
Pkilippiam,
96 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
(2) I see nothing prophetic in Stoicism. Prophecy begins
with a speaking God; Stoicism sometimes ends with Him,
but never recognises Him as speaking. Stoicism is surely (in
this aspect) rather gnomic, like the Book of Proverbs.
(3) I cannot see that the genuine Stoic had any dislike or
contempt of dialectic. He could not have much faith in it,
because philosophy was failing ; but he used it as far as he
could for his own purposes.
(4) Stoicism seems to me Greek in its own character, and
fully explicable by Greek antecedents.
I do not of course doubt that Seneca and other late
' Stoics ' had many thoughts derived from Oriental, including
Jewish and Christian, sources ; but these accretions are surely
not Stoicism, and often harmonize badly with it
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, May 16M, 1868.
... On Thursday I went up to town with Lightfoot to
the first Dictionary Dinner,^ and was rejoiced to hear that
you and he had made acquaintance at Moorsom's. By good
fortune I sat between Stanley and Grove, and subsequently
made acquaintance with Stubbs. Ffoulkes, Fergusson, Ben-
jamin Shaw, and Wharton Marriott were among the revellers.
To the Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, ytrn^ 4M, 1868.
... I have not yet seen Max Miiller's second basket of
Chips.* The first was very interesting, and was satisfactory.
We have Newman's and Arnold's poems, but have finished
neither; it is hard to finish anything nowadays. As to St,
Pauly I quite think that it represents only one phase (which
we may call that of 2 Cor.), and that considerably modified.
Still there is true dramatic insight, and there is no common-
place.— Ever affectionately yours, F. J. A. Hort.
* Of those employed on the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities,
* Chips from a German Workshop,
AGE 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 97
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Glanwysk, Senny Bridge, Brecon, S. Wales,
Jtdy StA, 1868.
My dear Ellerton — I was interrupted the other day when
trying to answer your query about the hymn-book, and have
found it hard to resume. What I wanted to say is this, — so
far as I see my way. I greatly mistrust committees for this
purpose. Two or three friends who generally agreed in
opinion might be able to work together, and would check
each other's idiosyncrasies usefully. But if that cannot be
had, and I don't see how it can, the next best thing is a
single despot of varied sympathies to start with, who will by a
series of deliberate dramatic efforts criticise his own work from
external points of view. Most clergy and most congregations
love bad hymns, and are not indisposed to hate good ones.
A good hymnal cannot therefore, I think, be effectually floated
by its own merits. It could be floated by great names recom-
mending it (which it is probably impossible to obtain) or
great names attached to it (which is inconsistent with its own
supposed goodness). But it might be floated by its music :
either its musical merits (for good taste on this head is much
more widely diffused than on hymns) or its musical names.
... As regards comprehensiveness, that I think should have
its limits. You would of course take good matter from all
sources and all schools, and endeavour as far as possible to
meet the requirements of all existing schools. But I suppose
you would exclude decidedly sectarian hymns of any colour,
such as would reasonably offend intelligent men of other views,
and pitilessly exclude trash, i,e. nine-tenths of 'favourite
hymns.' I fear I grow increasingly intolerant of the debasing
effeminacy and luxuriousness which is beginning to unite
{>eople of different doctrines.
I wish I could think of coadjutors to suggest; but none
have hitherto occurred to me. As regards myself, I fear I
must give you a shabby answer. I shall be very glad to give
any indirect help in moderation ; but it would not be right for
me to undertake either research or translation. My hands are
too full already. The text and the Dictionary are more than
VOL. II H
98 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
sufficient for philological work (and the latter will be connected
with other matters of a similar kind for the revived Journal of
Philology)^ while I am most anxious to get a little free for
direct theology and philosophy.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Camdbn Hotel, Trecastle, Brecon, S. Wales,
Jtdy \(>th, 1868.
. . . Apparently we do not really differ much about the
Irish Church after all. This would be more apparent if you
could bring yourself to do justice to Gladstone. He is not
wise, and he is passionate ; but I wholly disbelieve that the
consolidation of his party was to him the end, and the present
movement the means. The state of Irish feeling revealed in
and through the Fenian doings must have impressed him, as
so many others, with an instantaneous conviction that it is
madness to delay prompt and vigorous action in Ireland, and
to wait for opportunities for plans best in themselves. The
main point was to give Ireland (and the civilised world) a
pledge at once. The land question was really of greater con-
sequence; but selfish and powerful interests would prevent
there the immediate action which was indispensable. In the
case of the Church the pledge could be given at once, and so
I think Gladstone was right to propose it, though he could
only succeed through the baseness or the indifference of others.
No doubt Gladstone personally has an irrational leaning towards
' Free ' Churches, and this has enabled him to strike without
hesitation. But I see no evidence that he has been actuated
by any unworthy motive whatever.
You find fault with the negative resolution. The point to
be gained was itself negative, the abolition of Anglican suprem-
acy. It is surely a great merit that the manner of doing this
is left undetermined. That is a matter of English or Imperial
policy, not of justice to Ireland. I am sorry that Gladstone
has spoken so strongly against endowment of different com-
munions or establishment of Roman Catholic supremacy.
There^ no doubt, his personal opinions intervened But that
AGB 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 99
is not the whole matter. Without the help of the Dissenters
and the Scotch no measure of anything but internal reform
(and therefore wholly useless for the pressing purpose) had a
chance of passing, and they would never consent to anything
being given to Romanists. As it is, they were suspicious, and
I doubt whether Gladstone could have secured the giving of
the pledge if he had not committed himself (in accordance
with his own convictions) to their requirement.
I cannot believe that any prospects of the future have so
been sacrificed. As far as it is possible to look forward, stupid
and selfish fanaticism shows no sign of being on the wane,
and this is a matter in which the increase of a better spirit
and truer wisdom is not likely to command votes in any
adequate proportion.
It is impossible to be sanguine about the measure. It
promises abundant evils to Ireland and to England, some of
which you suggest. But the case seems to me to be one of
those in which it is a clear duty to disregard consequences.
In such a state of things formulae about destruction and con-
struction are surely misleading. Granted in the most absolute
manner that construction is the thing now paramountly needed,
and that the wisdom of the Press and Parliament tacitly assumes
destructiveness to be the test of truth, how does that imply
that at a given moment a given act of destruction is not a
necessity ?
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
Camden Hotel, Trecastle, Brecon, S. Wales,
July 2jth^ 1868.
... I have had no energy, and have failed even to write
a letter requiring thought You must not therefore wonder
that I have been unable to set down anything of the kind that
you desire, notwithstanding a strong craving. It seems as if
it were necessary to write, to obtain a basis for further thought
and reading, of which I feel much need. But surely your co-
ordination fails in this, that it merely exhibits a relation or
relations, while religion must be fundamentally the conscious-
ness of a relation or relations. It is doubtless true that false
100 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vix
religion (of Christian origin) usually arises (when it is not
idolatrous) from an effort to extricate the worshipper from the
world, and God from the world ; whereas such effort, if con-
sistently successful, could only end in reducing the worshipper
to a pin-point of nothingness and destroying the medium
through which alone God can be known. The world must
therefore ^ assist ' at all religion, and true religion will welcome
its presence. But I cannot see how without consciousness or
power of response it can take rank on equal terms. The
doctrine of Comte (whether in this sense there are any
Comtists I know not — perhaps Bridges may be one) not
only indicates a fatal error and defect in current theology, but
contains thoughts which are apprehensions of truth; yet I
cannot think that it is capable of adoption in a simply com-
plementary manner. I believe the pith of my view might be
thus expressed, (i) All human life is transformed by religion ;
all religion is transformed by Christianity. Yet (2) not all
human life is (rightly) religion, not all religion is (rightly)
Christianity. I fear you would differ by saying that holding
(i) you are bound to deny (2).
It puzzles me much that you can think the Conservatives
to have had either the will or the power to carry a sound
measure for the Irish Church, for of course you would not
consider as such an internal reform which left unaltered the
relations to other communions. A few Parliamentary poli-
ticians of the party might be willing to acquiesce, but surely
the strength of the party is ' Protestant ' in an uncompromising
sense; and again the accession of the Dissenters and the
Scotch would render them invincible. Again, everything that
I can see and hear exhibits the clergy as practically unanimous
on behalf of Anghcan supremacy ; and what astonishes me
most of all is the passionate clinging to Church and State
in all parties alike. This seems the one thing on which they
dare rely when faith and order are rocking. Pusey (like
Gladstone) no doubt protests, and a few follow him ; but how
few ! It seems as if the lessons of the early Oxford Movement
had to be learned over again, — a penalty for the hatred of
everything but the Church, and the fearfdlly one-sided con-
ception of the Church which accompanied the teaching.
AGE 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK loi
Meanwhile I must think that it was well to testify publicly
for a simple political duty, though the result might endanger
high interests. Great pains were taken to show that the
protest was not for Gladstone's special policy, but merely
against Anglican supremacy ; and I think that is now tolerably
understood.
To THE Rev. B. R Westcott
St. Ippolyts, August 18M, 1868.
. . . One word more on your formula. I, too, do not see
how a relation can ultimately be interpreted as anything but
the sense of a relation. We all, consciously or unconsciously,
mean by existence the sum of appearance. And for some pur-
poses this truth must be kept in mind But I do not see how
it applies here, because it holds good equally of both members
of the comparison, and must therefore be expressed of neither
or of both. In your language I should say that you make
religion the sense of relations between man, and world, and
God; while I think it must be the sense of the sense of
relations.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, September 23^/, 1868.
. . . You may perhaps not have recognised the Aylmers
in the Abergele ^ list as my cousins. It was a great shock to
us. Father, mother, and eldest son perished together. The
second son died two and a half years ago ; the toil and anxiety
of nursing him was, I believe, the chief cause of my mother's
death. Now there are left two boys, of thirteen and ten.
The house (Walworth Castle) was the only place that from
early association my father could regard as a home, and he
feels its desolation most keenly.
I am going to Cambridge on Thursday to add in last refer-
ences to my stock (sixty or seventy) of A-s.* This letter
does not include a single article of importance, though two or
^ The Abergele railway accident.
• For the DicHonary of Christian Antiquities,
I02 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
three have some curious matter. But I am vexed at the
absorption of so much time in mere trivialities. B has Barde-
sanes, Basilides, and the Gnostic book of Baruch, which are
much more serious undertakings.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, December ^^rd^ 1868.
... I have just finished your book,^ and entirely retract
the grumblings which seemed natural during its progress. The
direct value of the story is considerable ; and its indirect re-
sults, intrinsically and through yourself, will, I trust, be of yet
greater importance in several directions.
The extracts from Tyndale are to me new and wonderfully
impressive. Their penetrative reality and compressed force
are most striking. Can no one be led to make him the sub-
ject of a complete monograph, including his whole writings ?
The foundations of a history of the English Church ought to
be laying.
Not less marvellous is the catholicity of our version, as
you have displayed it. It is very pleasant to have Erasmus
and Luther coming in side by side. ... I wish you had said
a word of regret at the terms of Latin theology intruded from
the Rhemish version. They have done grievous harm, and the
evil is now, I fear, past remedy. The isolation of theological
words from vernacular etymology is an evil which seems to me
without adequate compensation.
Had you any reason for not dwelling on the alternative
readings ? I do not think the significance of their existence
is generally understood.
's theory corresponds exactly with my impression of
him : a favourable specimen of the conventional English eccle-
siastical scholar, who does not willingly violate truth, but has
never discovered that there is such a thing as truth. Our
character as a nation of advocates is curious in the presence of
nations of theorists. Yet perhaps ours is the more hopeful
basis for improvement
1 The History of the English BibU,
AGE 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 103
To A Friend
St. Ifpolyts, /anuafy 6tk, 1869.
. . . The autumn has passed away very quietly. I had to
go to Cambridge again for the Moral Science Tripos examina-
tion. An unfortunate combination of Calendar arrangements
sadly reduced our time for looking over papers, so that I had
to work pretty hard all the time, and saw little of friends except
by snatches. However, it was a pleasant time. Maurice, I
fear, worked much too hard. He was tired before I left, and
has since been ill in consequence ; but I have heard no par-
ticulars. He was in excellent spirits, and is evidently now as
much at home in the University and town as if he had been
there all his life. Everything connected with the Universities
is specially full of interest just now. Various changes are im-
pending or talked of; and, though some of the floating ideas
are foolish enough, I think there is good ground for hoping
that in,[due time the Universities will exercise an influence for
good over various classes in ways hitherto hardly dreamed of,
and be equally benefited themselves by the enlargement of
responsibilities.
For the last few days this absurd judgement of the Privy
Council has been an engrossing subject. Unless Parliament
interferes, it seems likely that we shall all have to alter very
much the character of all our services, and to wear the very
vestments which are as a red rag to wise John Bull : certainly
a curious result from the prosecution which was to vindicate
outraged Protestantism. However, I think we shall most of
us venture to disobey the judgement for the present, rather
than bother our congregations with novelties, harmless (with
two or three exceptions) or even good in themselves, but
objectionable from their startling character.
I hope you have seen that Norwich sermon of Bishop
Magee's which you did not hear. If not, pray order it ; the
Dublin sermon on TAe Breaking Net being a worthy com-
panion. Their greatness was, I confess, far beyond anything
that I had anticipated. He has lately been showing his wis-
dom by making Mr. Westcott one of his examining chaplains ;
I04 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
and has since, I rejoice to say, given him a vacant canonry at
Peterborough. .Mr. Westcott's health has latterly been quite
breaking down under his Harrow work, so that the change is
most welcome. He has just brought out a History of the
English Bible which, I think, would interest you. It is a clear
account of the various events in Church and State which led
to the successive revisions culminating in the Authorised
Version, and the men who played the chief parts in the work ;
and then an attempt to discover by internal evidence the
various sources from which the several revisers drew. The
result is a very curious illustration of the true catholicity of
the English Bible, as profiting by the labours of every school
and every time.
I am slowly working through the first volume of Bunsen's
Life. Every page is good, and almost every page has some-
thing new. One cannot help wishing that some one possessing
a competent knowledge of German theology and philosophy
in the first quarter of the century had had a share in describe
ing Bunsen's early youth. Evidently permanent impressions
were made then, of which Baroness Bunsen has little or no
inkling, and one has to guess at them by accidental indica-
tions. But that is about the only defect that has struck me
thus far in her own work. The picture which she uncon-
sciously draws of herself is as satisfying to look upon as that
of Bunsen himself, perhaps in some respects more so.
Since my father has been here, we have been reading Mr.
Dilke's Greater England in the evenings, and find it decidedly
better than it looks. He is a very advanced young gentleman ;
but, if one can tolerate a few harmless theories, a great deal
is to be learned from the book about some of the strangest
political and social occurrences now proceeding in the various
countries colonized by England. . . . The most impressive facts,
perhaps, are the great variety and complexity of things which
we are accustomed to class vaguely together, and the rapidity
of changes which are likely to affect the whole human race
for centuries to come.
We, I am sorry to say, find it hard to reserve time for read-
ing. Except fugitive things, I have scarcely seen anything
else of late, unless it be Darwin's new book on Domestication ;
AGK 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 105
not at all a book for reading out, but full of deeply interesting
facts told in the best way.
Since I began to write, I have been with Mr. Waterhouse,
the architect, to examine sites for the Ladies' College, which
is probably to be planted down in this neighbourhood ! One
of the sites, not one of the best, is even in my second parish,
Much Wymondley. But I do not know much of what is
going on, and Mr. Waterhouse was apparently still more in
the dark.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Itpoiyts, /anuafy 22ndy 1869.
. . . We are greatly rejoicing at Westcott's appointment,^
though it is an anxious matter considering his large family, as
he would not venture to take a living. He has, however,
some hope of obtaining Cambridge employment But he
considers the education of the clergy as henceforth his work.
With great labour he has succeeded at last in inducing H.
Bradshaw to undertake the Irish saints for the Dictionary, and
has just wrung from him a bare list of those whose names
begin with A. They are above 200 in number ! Green of
Stepney, who has few rivals in knowledge of the early Church
History of Britain, had sent in a list of two !
I long to hear more of your h3rmn-book and your plans
for it — Ever affectionately yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To the Rev. B. F. Westcott
^St. Ippolyts, February 17M, 1869.
How often during the last few days have I longed that
our few words in the gusty Harrow station about the Cxnobium
could have been extended ! There are evidently two separ-
able ideas — ^plain living and common living. To take the
last first, I have long thought that the old ccsfwbium needs
revival in various forms, of course with great alterations. But
1 To a canoniy of Peterborough.
io6 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
its permanent characteristic is that the unit is the individual
Its purpose is to be an artificial family as a substitute for a
natural family, the advantage being twofold, both for the
personal and social life of the members, and for the work
which they may jointly do for the world without. A canoHum
of which the unit should be the family has always seemed to
me hopeless. It was, I believe, that feeling more than any
other which set me against the designs of the College
Reformers ten years ago.^ The College seemed to me to
lose its cohesive power in proportion as its members belonged
as residents to the smaller and more natural society. If you
can persuade me that I am wrong, I shall be very thankfiiL
My present feeling is that in daily life a superhuman amount
of forbearance in each member of each family would be
required to prevent disintegration. Even in canobia on the
individual basis, founded from exceptional zeal, the standing
cause of miserable failure, real if not apparent, is the extreme
difficulty of maintaining mutual forbearance. If the plan can
be worked, its moral effects ought to be great in a certain
number of cases, not perhaps the most numerous. About
the economic gain I am rather in the dark. Would there be
advantages except as to combination of servants and educa-
tion, and what would the proportionate advantage be under
those heads ?
Plain living I feel more strongly about, but here, too, can
hardly see my way. No one who has really thought about
the matter can doubt that luxury (and much that is called
comfort is really luxury) contributes little or nothing to
happiness, and tends to relaxation of character. And again
it is always an appalling thought to find that in spite of this
conviction one is perpetually spending huge sums on things
which have no evident connexion with the necessities of
healthy and orderly existence. Nevertheless I have always
been baffled in attempting to see what a family like ours can
discard, though, apart from moral grounds, I have always had
every motive to press to a solution. . . .
Am I or am I not right in going on with the Dictionary ?
The work is most interesting, and ought to be profitable both
^ See vol. L pp. 362-4.
AGB 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 107
as leading into the heart of early Church history and as
forcing a consideration of the great cosmical problems. Yet
the consumption of time is cruel, and the greater part is
inevitably absorbed by antiquarianism. The Dictionary must
have the antiquarian matter, and I do not think it ought to
be entrusted to other hands than those occupied with the
great doctrinal systems. Whoever has that work must labour
through many mtnutuEy for there is no other road to the
requisite knowledge. A perfunctory sketch taken from the
surface would be simple falsehood. As ^ as I can see,
none of the German investigations can be even roughly and
provisionally trusted : they are full of good pioneering and no
more. Minute verbal criticism appears to give the most
hopeful clue.
Details are not distasteful, but they are very engrossing.
The text has more than enough of them, and even St, James.
Meanwhile the thorough thinking out of great questions,
which for me at least is impossible without writing, is in-
definitely thrust off; and this while each month seems to
bring a fresh crisis inviting the utterance of even the most
imperfect results. I feel to need both thinking and writing,
and each for the sake of the other. Thus occupation with
the small facts of the second century seems at times hard to
distinguish from fiddling when Rome is burning. Yet I
should shrink much from severing myself from an accepted
and commenced connexion with such an undertaking, especi-
ally when it fits so well into past work and projects of future
work. Sometimes I think that, by adjourning the text till
(say) the autumn, I ought by that time to be able by resolu-
tion to make a thorough study of the doctrinal matter, so as
to be able to write confidently the earlier articles and leave
not much to do for the later, besides being ready for
'Gnosticism.' But I think in that case I should have to
rely on untoward circumstances throwing the April engage-
ment into the autumn. The three literary articles — Epi
phanius, ^Hippolytus, Irenseus — would be a huge addition ;
and indeed I do not see my way to writing about Basilides,
Bardesanes, and the book of Baruch, till I know much more
of the whole subject What do you advise ?
io8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, February 25M, 1869.
... I am ashamed to have detained your hymns so long,
but send them at last with a few fragmentary comments. The
great differentia of the book ought to be its manUness. It
ought to be possible to form a large, comprehensive, and most
positively Christian hymn-book, wholly free from clerical
femininities.
I have read part only of Ffoulkes' pamphlet,^ but must
finish it It is an event in itself. But it makes one more
than ever curious to see the actual evidence accumulated in
his second volume. I hope you received Westcott's Com-
memoration Sermon,^ a treatise in small, which I sent a few
weeks ago. I think you will find it repay considerable study.
He has let me have a few copies of a little Harrow sermon
of last autumn, which is hardly, if at all, less pregnant ; so I
have put one among the hymns. It is hard to resist a vague
feeling that Westcott's going to Peterborough will be the
beginning of a great movement in the Church, less conspicu-
ous, but not less powerful, than that which proceeded from
Newman. His present feeling curiously reminds one, by
similarity and by contrast, of Newman's temper when he
returned from the Mediterranean. May the hymn-book be a
contribution to the same work !
We have been making the unpleasant discovery that,
economically as we have always lived, we must somehow con-
trive to retrench further, and even then must find some way
of adding to income. The enormous worry of pupils, as
regards both time and responsibility, leads us to prefer almost
anything to them. At present we chiefly incline to (tf^. young
lady) lodgers or to India pickles, ue. stranded children of well-
to-do parents.
1 Probably The Church's Creed or the Crozvn^s Creed f a Letter to Arch-
bishop Manning, by the Rev. E. S. Ffoulkes, 1868. Mr. Ffoulkes pub-
lished in 1869 another pamphlet, entitled The Roman Index and its Pro-
ceedings, A second Letter to Archbishop Manning,
* * The Spiritual Office of the Universities,' preached at Trinity College
Commemoration, December 15th, 1868, and published by request.
AGE 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 109
To THE Rev. B. F, Westcott
St. Ippolyts, March 3^/, 1869.
... I am afraid you still do not quite understand my
Dictionary difficulties. They do not arise from too high a
standard of completeness. I am quite content to come short
there. But I cannot write anything on Gnostic subjects,
however roughly and broadly, without considerable minute
study, because otherwise what I wrote would not be substanti-
ally true. I doubt whether you can fully enter into the
embarrassments of a slow reader with a wretched memory.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, March 23n/, 1869.
My dear Ellerton — ^Your prospectus* has been kept too
long. . . . My only clear cavil would be about the last head,
'Hymns for Personal Use.' These do not belong to * Common
Worship.' If they are meant to satisfy the plea that for many
their * hymn-book' is virtually a manual of devotion, the
collection must be greatly enlarged : indeed there is no reason
why it should not be doubled in size, and then perverse clergy
wiU sing the private hymns in church, and the opportunity of
forcing people to see that they are out of place there will be
lost Possibly you may only mean the head however as a
limbo for a few favourites which you would like to omit, but
dare not
After I wrote the other day, it struck me that I had failed
to mention what seems to me the greatest of all the aims that
should be kept in view throughout, viz. the building up of the
Church as a body, whether the Church at large. Universal or
National, or the congregation. Mere variety and healthiness
of religiousness in the ordinary (not the bad) sense is not
enough. Common worship must be felt to be, not the com-
bination of individual worships, but the only worship which is
not maimed and imperfect. Worship must interpret the belief
* i.tf. of Mr. EUerton's hymn-book.
no FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
that each man's work must be wrong, even while he is unre-
servedly labouring for others, when he looks upon himself and
his work as a whole, and not as a part of a larger whole. When
this belief is wanting, it seems to me that we may have religion
coloured by Christian ideas, but not Christianity itself. For a
long time past I have been coming in various ways to feel
that perhaps our most urgent need in the English Church is
the creation of a true congregational life. It is the indispen-
sable preparation for disestablishment, and it may also make
disestablishment impossible. But, what is of more conse-
quence, a new congregational life would give back to Chris-
tianity itself a power of which people little dream.^ I am
painfully conscious of the difficulties of bringing such a state
of things into existence; painfully conscious also that I do
not clearly see my way to using the idea in the construction
of a hymn-book. Yet the thing must be possible. Few
single agents can be so potent congregationally as a good
h3rmn-book ; and it is at least worth while to keep the purpose
steadily and distinctly in view.
I do not know that any theological college at Peterborough
is in prospect But Westcott is very anxious to make the
Ordination Examination much more than a test, submitted to
and left behind. He wants to keep up a connexion with
the clergy who pass through his hands, to Ipad them (if I
understand right) into plans of systematic study and syste-
matic work, and to make their relation to the Cathedral a
permanent one. The point ctappui for the enterprise, I
imagine, is his being at once Canon (always resident) and
examining chaplain.
Our own plans are somewhat altered since I wrote. The
Blunts have rather discouraged our hopes of obtaining either
pickles or inmates, and Westcott urges me to try what writing
will do. As this is unavoidably a broken year, we are dis-
posed to take the advice, at least for the present, trying mean-
while what can be done by giving the tight screw another
twist. At the same time, if we heard of any very tempting
invaders, I think we should try to receive them. Time un-
^ Compare the sermon, preached twenty-one years later, on the occasion
of Dr. Westcott*s consecration to the See of Durham ; see p. 373.
AGB 40 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK in
fortunately is more and more encroached on ; and I have not
felt it right to refuse the stool of Church History at the
'Women's College' which we are to have at Hitchin. The
scheme seems to me to promise unmixed good, and I am
very anxious that it should succeed. The theological depart-
ment will require delicate management, especially at first, and
I hope I may be of use in fixing from the outset the Church
in its proper place along with the amplest freedom.
I have never, I fear, myself thanked you for the very
beautiful — much too beautiful — book you sent to Arthur.
I do not know such thoroughly delightful natural history
pictures. It is quite a refreshment to take up and study one
of them. — Ever affectionately yours, F, J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Iffolyts, Easter Monday ^ March 29M, 1869.
... I did not understand Westcott to object to the
arrangement of hymns in a book, but to Loci communes^ printed
headings (or rubrics, as the Germans say) under one of which
each hymn must fall, as a soldier must belong to this or that
company of his regiment I do certainly think all such head-
ings in the text a mistake, as also references of any kind.
But I see nothing but good in an ample, unobtrusive index at
the end, in which the same hymn may be indicated under
several heads, if need be. Such index need not correspond in
all respects to the arrangement of the book — probably it would
include that and more.
I am not at all surprised that you find yourself obliged to
be more and more peremptory in exclusion. I am sure it is a
necessity. The difficulty is no doubt great in filling the gaps,
including the gaps which as yet are not even choked with
rubbish. Still the attempt must be made ; and it is better to
confess and lament imperfection than to hinder progress by
allowing bad stuff to vitiate the tone of the whole. No work
can be final. In due time the need may be supplied. It is
a great thing if you can set up a sound ideal, though you
may and must fkll short of it, in some points conspicuously
112 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
so. But the ideal will be disfigured and falsified and so lost
by undue toleration.
But pray, pray, do not be satisfied with merely supplying a
better hymn-book to a churchless Christianity, not the less
miserably churchless because its nakedness is bedizened with
ecclesiastical 'properties,' as the theatres say. Merely to
keep Ephesians or even First Corinthians in mind when at
work would do much. — Ever affectionately yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, May 20M, 1869.
... Of course I quite feel that the separation of Triposes
is so far an evil (a creature wants us now to have an English
Tripos) ; but I do not see how in practice such a number of
subjects could form parts of one Honour examination, except
on the plan of two sides, with alternative papers. As far as
my own experience went, that arrangement did not work well,
though perhaps not so badly as some think. The political
side was on the whole an inferior affair, owing, I suppose, to
its being thought an intrusive and secondary thing in a Philo-
sophical Tripos. I confess I think the new plan dissipates
more than it co-ordinates. My two supposed Triposes would
each have been organic; now the purposelessness of the
arrangement isolates every subject from every other. In the
next number of the Gazette^ Maurice, as Chairman of the Board,
defended the scheme on its merits, chiefiy on the ground that
Politics could not be separated from Morals, and that their
association is the best safeguard against Politics being en-
grossed by Political Economy. I enclose the * copy * of my
brief reply, which you can bum. A fortnight ago there was
an interesting letter from John Mayor about new Professor-
ships generally, and last week a still more important welcome
of it from Sir G. Young.
. . . But I must just entreat you to write strongly and
clearly somewhere and somehow on the Cathedral question
before it is too late.
AGB 41 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 113
To THE Rev. B. F. Westcott
St. iFVOViTS, June SfA, 1869.
... A few days after I mentioned to you Lassalle's
HitracUituSy I was lent the April Fortnightly with an article on
Lassalle by Ludlow, which you must read. I never had
dreamed that the 'scholar' and the demagogue were the
same man. But the story of the cult which has arisen around
the demagogue is one of the strangest things in the strange
religious history of the nineteenth century. I find I become
more and more sceptical as to anything being psychologically
impossible.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. IvvoLyrs, /ufu 2isf, 1869.
F.S, — ... I am sure that mere ignorance and dulness
produce much of the vulgar misunderstanding of cathedrals,
and that great good would be done by temperate exposition of
what is needed, accompanied with knowledge of the main facts
of cathedral history. I bought a stray number of the Saturday
to-day, and saw that Freeman is on the whole going on the
right tack,— of course in consequence of his historical know-
ledge. But an expositor of another stamp is needed.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. IppoLyTS,/««tf 28M, 1869.
This is a year of the discussion of plans. A letter has
come from Miss Davies which perplexes me much. The
* Women's College ' Board do not expect to require a separate
set of lectures this year in Church History ; and having failed
to induce either Lightfoot or you to take * Divinity,' now wish
me for a year to represent Divinity, lecturing on what I please.
Thus much I have elicited partly from Roby, partly from Miss
Davies' letter.
I stand at present committed to lecture on Church History,
VOL. II I
114 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
if required. The old reasons against refusal are still in force ;
a wish to help the College, who will certainly not find it easy
to find lecturers on these subjects without sacrificing either
their Church or their liberal character; the obvious con-
venience of being on the spot ; the great interest of the work
itself.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. lv^oi.\TSf July Zih and ^k^ 1869.
It seems useless to discuss ' pressure.' Its value is un-
deniable j absence of limits means powerlessness. But there
is such a thing as bursting from over-pressure, and I some-
times seem near it, never, I think, so near as this year.
To the Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, August 5M, 1869.
... I am very glad you agree with my own inclination for
the History of the New Testament, and quite think it should
be founded on the History of events and states out of which
it sprung. I am not yet clear, however, about separating the
two subjects, or about the arrangement of the history of the
books. Neander must, I fear, be the handbook ; but oh ! he
is heavy. I think I must dispense with any book on the Acts.
Baumgarten abounds in valuable matter ; but surely no one
under forty ought to tolerate him, and no one above forty to
like him. He is not only heavy, but artificial and depraved
in his ingenuity. But I speak (as usual, I fear) from slender
knowledge.
I wish we could agree about John xxi. Your view does
not in substance contradict mine. If St John wrote originally
xxi. 25 continuously with xx. 30 f., and later wrote xxi. 1-23,
and this addition was inserted either by himself or (it may
well be) by the elders before xxL 25, and they further inserted
xxi. 24 as a note of their own, I do not see that any difficulty
remains unexplained. How best to signify in printing the
nature of xxi. 24, is not so easy to say.
AGE 41 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 115
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Clapham, September 27M, 1869 {after post),
I have been drawing up a rough outline for the Hitchin
lectures, which I shall be much obliged if you will criticise
freely. The scheme which you sent some weeks ago omitted
the Canon, — surely not intentionally. No doubt I might refer
the pupils to you, but I think it would be well to treat the
whole subject uniformly. I am for the present assuming that
there will be three terms of eight lectures each. This will prob-
ably hold good for Michaelmas Term ; Lent Term may prob-
ably have more, Easter Term less. But that matter can wait.
As a general title I thought of * The origin and history of the
New Testament ' The three terms would then be occupied by —
I. The origin of the diflferent parts of the New Testament
IL The growth of the New Testament as a whole.
IIL The history of the perpetuation of the New Testament
For the first course I have set down —
1. Introductory. (The Old and New Testaments. The
Septuagint The First Century. The New Testament written
in Greek by Jews. The several books of the New Testament
due to necessities of the Church. Division of the subject.)
2. The Gospel and the Gospels.
3. The Church and the Acts of the Apostles.
4. The Church within Judaea.
5. The Church receiving the Gentiles. St Paul's earlier
Epistles.
6. The Church settled : Rome and Jerusalem. St Paul's
middle Epistles. St James and St Jude.
7. The Church in martyrdom. St. Peter. Hebrews.
Pastoral Epistles. Apocalypse.
8. The Church Universal St. John's Gospel and Epistles.
To the Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, October iiM, 1869.
... I have to thank you for an earher note on the
Lectionary, etc I must try to put what I have to say on
ii6 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
paper before the Archbishop returns; but just now I am
staggering under advancing New Testament text, lectures to
Women, and Moral Science Tripos combined, besides parish.
I should add, helping Joe Mayor in his editing of John
Grote,
We left Grasmere on the 23rd, and spent a week at the
Flying Horse Shoe in the hope of an airier air. We had it
once or twice, but for the most part the weather was wet, soft,
and warm. We *did' nothing, neither Ingleborough, nor
cave, nor * pots,' nor Malham, nor even Settle. Perhaps we
may try the inn at Malham itself another time. I too saw no
plants but brambles.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, Octoher 2^rd, 1869.
. . . Yesterday we had Bishop Claughton's Primary
Visitation and Charge. It was full of his own genuineness
and greatness, and should do great good. But there were
some strange blunders or worse ; and not only absolutely no
recognition of a use for thought or knowledge or love of truth,
but repeated fierce denunciation of every one who questioned
an article of the Christian faith as '* the enemy of God and
holiness." His speeches afterwards were every way admirable.
— Always yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To the Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr. Tait)
St. Ippolyts, Hitchin, November 12th, 1869.
My dear Lord Archbishop — I cannot send these five sheets
of foolscap ^ in silence as if I were a stranger to your Grace,
known only through a friend, even though that friend be Dr.
Lightfoot. You will not, I am sure, be displeased if a word
of respectful but most cordial greeting accompanies them.
More than ten years of Cambridge and more than twelve
years of a country parish have not driven out the recollections
of the five years of Rugby which preceded them. Indeed of
1 I do not know what the enclosed paper was. — A. F. H.
AGE 41 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 117
late years school-times have rather returned to mind with
increasing power. When forty is passed, one is led to look
back more than before over the whole of life; and unsatis-
factory in my case as the retrospect is, I feel that I can never
be sufficiently grateful to Rugby and to yourself. As posts of
greater and greater responsibility in the Church have been
committed to your Grace, it has been a constant satisfaction
to look back to the personal knowledge which came to me as
one of the Sixth now nearly a quarter of a century ago, and
rejoice in the good omen for interests even more precious than
those of that great school Never, I think, has the future of
the world seemed to depend so much on the Church of
£ngland, and never has the spirit which we are proud to
think characteristic of Rugby been more needed to guide the
Church through surrounding dangers, and help her to turn
them into occasions of future triumphs.
Trusting that your Grace will pardon the freedom of these
few lines, which I have long wished to have an excuse for
writing, I remain, ever gratefully yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, November 20ihy 1869.
... As regards the College,^ at least I have whatever
encouragement comes from response. The subject does seem
to find a keen interest, and the corrected notes given in to me
(I have not as yet been able to compass more) are all
intelligent, and some remarkably good ; and I do succeed in
getting a few questions asked.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, November 26/A, 1869 (after post).
... I forgot to mention that on Sunday week we read
< Saul ' (a bit of it was the first of Browning that I ever met,
^ ue, the Ladies* College at Hitchin.
ii8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vix
about twenty to twenty-two years ago), and surrendered at
discretion Besides the thought, it is all pure and high
poetry, and a poem. The closing symphony rises above
Milton. But after that to return to studies in casuistry and
the like
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, December x-^tky 1869.
... I was rejoiced to find that you had sent Maurice your
sermons, and that he fully understood their value. From the
6th to the loth I was alone in Trinity. The Tripos was very
interesting this time. Some men of remarkable vigour were
in — a votary of Buckle and physics with a dialectic power
unusual in those regions ; a sensitive and subtle Scholar from
King's who believes himself, Bradshaw says, to be a Positivist;
an ex-Dissenter with a much wider view than either of these,
if less exact ; and others.
The Ladies' College and I have suddenly and unexpectedly
parted company. Miss Davies writes that the students find
they have too much to do, and, as they are unanimous in
desiring to enter the Cambridge examinations, are unwillingly
obliged to throw over their Divinity and English.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, /tfiwar^ 12M, 1870.
. . . Sometimes I think I must explode in a long letter to
the Guardian about the insane passion for narrowing the
Church which*terror and faithlessness seems increasing in many
quarters, and even among the Bishops. And on the other
hand ugly counter signs are abroad, as the Education League,
the secessions at Cambridge, etc
Two things are encouraging, Maurice's book (which I am
rejoiced that you like, or at least part of it), for though in
substance it is not new, the word wanted saying just now;
and Church's sermon on Episcopacy at Bishop Moberly's
consecration, of which one might say much the same.
AGE 41 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 1 19
To THE Rev. Professor Maurice
St. Ippolyts, February 2nd^ 1870.
My dear Mr. Maurice — I want much to ask your opinion
about Davies' * Syllabus,' ^ to which he says you are " on the
whole favourable." May I ask the nature of your concurrence?
My own feeling is one of great perplexity. In some matters
there is evident and urgent need of reform, chiefly with a view
to avert the dangers which anarchy and isolation are bringing
upon us. Yet the manner of action is beset with difficulties.
Most Church reformers have a purely Erastian ideal, such as
pervades those 'Essays on Church Policy' (except Davies')
. . . What made me on the whole like the Syllabus itself was
the absence of plans belonging to the 'Broad' platform,
though some suggestions, as that for the abolition of Election
and Confirmation,^ strike me as highly questionable. But
then how far will it be possible (not desirable) to co-operate
substantially with a set of men who really have quite other
ends in view ? And again, ought the perils of legislation to be
&ced? ... If the destroyers were not coming upon us so
fast, I should certainly think it better to wait for the revival of
action within the Church itself through the wiser Bishops, who
are already doing much, as in every way preferable to
Parliamentary coercion. But is there time ? On the whole I
should be inclined to wish that a few Catholic churchmen
should take counsel with the Broad people in the first instance,
and see what can be attempted with safety ; remaining prepared
to withdraw later if necessary. I have just written in this sense
to Westcott. But I cannot pretend to see my way with any
clearness, and shall be most thankful for any light from
you.
. . . What you say of Locke is most interesting and, as far
as I can judge, true. He is essentially the sensible English-
man who will stand none of your nonsense, but who is also
determined to use his sense in philosophy as in other things,
and so comes to make all sorts of purely philosophical as-
* Concerning the 'Church Reform Union ' (see pp. 58-61).
' i,e» of Bishops.
120 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
sumptions without knowing it Notwithstanding the differences,
he strikes me as singularly analogous to Descartes as self-
depicted in the early pages of the Discaurs. Erdmann is
surely right in insisting that Descartes' position is that of
a man trying to escape from a literary world of scepticism
(Montaigne one brilliant example only) without going back to
doctors of any sort. So one feels Locke always trying not to
be Hobbes.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, March 29M, 1870.
My dear Lightfoot — Submit, submit, as Clough says. It
is of no use to curse one's natural enemy, or even resist him
when he stands armed with the power of an English publisher.
So I will faithfully cut everything interesting out of the
' Adams,' ^ though it goes against one to destroy those
fresh Eastern pictures which I had mentally looked at as
an oasis in those heavy volumes of criticism. In this
way about five columns of slip (3! pages of book) may be
saved, perhaps also another page out of the Greek book at the
end. I am somewhat tempted to rkchauffer the dibriSy and
offer them to the Contemporary ; is Plumptre still at the
head ? Alford, I see, is said to be retiring.
* Asenath' must, I presume, go the way of 'Adam.' I do
not know of anything at all similar to come in the alphabet, at
least in my department. I do not think I have hitherto used
many superfluous words, but in future the packing of a port-
manteau shall be the model
I am waiting for a book or two out of the Library, and
then you shall have all A back. Some (^ Areban,' ' Asenath ')
is not in type yet.
I do not know how far you are following the vicissitudes ot
elementary education, or what your view is. But I am
tempted to send you a petition which some of us here are
getting up and hope to spread widely. We are in great terror
1 This and the following *A's' refei to Hort's articles for the
Dictionary of Christian Antiquities.
AGE 41 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 121
at the kind of compromise which Gladstone hinted the other
day, thinking that it will destroy most of the virtue, and en-
courage any latent vice, of 'denominational' education. It
must draw a sharp line between 'secular' and 'religious'
instruction, and keep constantly before the eyes of the children
the ugly fact of divisions while intensifying those divisions
themselves. In short, it is truly sectarian without securing
the integrity of thorough Church teaching. It seems quite
worth while to try to set up the Apostles' Creed as a common
standard ; it is printed by the Congregationalists in their Year-
Book. Such an union may lead to a better understanding
between Churchmen and Dissenters in all matters. T. Hughes
strongly encourages us at least to try the petition, which
(between ourselves) Forster also likes. No doubt the name
of the Catechism on one side, and the jealousy of the Church
on the other, may annihilate all common ground. But it
seems worth trying whether the more reasonable Churchmen
and Dissenters cannot save some real Christian teaching. If
you approve, can you do anything at Cambridge, or can you
suggest any one who can and would ? No time is to be lost.
— Ever yours, F. J. A. Hort.
This day week I go to Harrow to examine for their
Scholarship.
To HIS Sister, Mrs. Garnons Williams
St. Ippolyts, March 2gthf 1870.
... It is work, work, work from breakfast to bed, and
still always with the feeling that three-quarters are left
undone, and that harm is constantly happening to others
in consequence. In some ways I am better, and my head
keeps very fairly well; but bodily strength dwindles con-
tinually, so that I am driven to be absurdly careful about
fatigue, for fear of being unfit for anything for two or three
days. ... As regards the parish I am always unhappy,
always feeling how much is needed in this straggling place
which is quite beyond me; the thought both frets me day
and night as regards myself, and also suggests that some
one else might have better success. . . . This is one side of
122 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
the matter. On the other, I cannot help hoping that I am
not quite useless here, and in a place where tact is much
needed a younger man might fail more signally. Again, I see
that I am increasingly of use in the Church outside the
parish, in clerical meetings, eta Between ourselves, it is by
my own act that I am not rural dean. ... If, as is quite
possible, I should be chosen representative of the deanery at
the Diocesan Conference which, I am thankful to say, the
Bishop is summoning for July, there would again be a field
opened which I should have no right to abandon without dear
duty.
As regards the future, if I live, I think that unless specially
called elsewhere, we shall eventually go to Cambridge, i.e, as soon
as I can afford it, whether by office there (of which I am not
very sanguine) or by means of my own. That would certainly
not be my choice, if we were merely to think of what we like
best. In spite of its many satisfactions, there would be
grievous drawbacks; and it would be far pleasanter to live
quietly in the country and read and write in one's study only.
But this would be self-indulgence, which could only be excused
by actual necessity of health or some such thing. The work
of the Church has to be done, and the need becomes greater
every year. Parish work is one kind, cathedral work (to
which I am not likely to be called) is another, University work
is another, and probably the most important of all. At all
events, it is what is most neglected by those who care for the
Church, and it is that for which, if I dare judge, I am less
unfit than for others. The Church can be served by literary
work, otherwise I could not do as I am doing. But very
much more is needed, and if by that time I have enough
vigour left to be of use to anybody, it seems at present clear
to me that I ought to give personal labour and intercourse to
the University as soon as it is in my power to do so. Although
a rest of a few years (if so it be) in Wales might be of real
service in renewing bodily and mental strength, still I do
shrink very much from giving up my present work (however
badly in itself and painfully to myself it is done) without some
plain sign that I ought — Ever your affectionate brother,
F. J. A. HoRT.
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 123
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, April u/, 1870.
... If you agree, cannot you get this^ signed? It is
meant as a substitute for Gladstone's unlucky compromise
(a private arrangement with Dixon), which, under cover
of saving denomination, separates hopelessly ^secular' from
' religious ' education as two distinct things, and promises an
endless crop of sectarian bitternesses, all in the eyes of the
children. The Creed gives just the base that we want for
working with Dissenters, and with working will come mutual
understanding, while virtually the Church, by not claiming^
will be permitted to take the lead.
Hensley, Blomfield, and I are authors. We have high
encouragement (Hughes, Forster himself, £. Baines, etc.),
though some doubt whether the Creed will be endured. I
think we shall have the Wesleyans m masses and we hear of
secret complaints of conscientious Dissenters at the way things
are going. But they entirely mistake the feelings of Church-
men, and will be greatly won by an overture like this.
If only the clergy will not be mad enough to say * Catechism
or nothing.' Baines' letter was quite beautiful.
To HIS Wife
St. Ippolyts, EasUr Eve \April 16M], 1870. ,
... On the way to Wymondley I have been reading West-
cott's Resurrection sermon in the Peterborough volume to
help me this evening. Really almost each sentence is a book.
By the way, did you hear Butler say that he has persuaded
Westcott to print a volume of Harrow sermons as a legacy to
the school ? I had long been hoping, but hardly expecting it
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, April 2yd, 1870.
We have thought much of you this week — an Easter week
to you, I am sure, with all its labours and anxieties. Your
^ Enclosing copy of petition (see p. 58).
124 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
apprenticeship has produced more fruit than most men's lives,
but an apprenticeship only it surely is. In due time your
work will now begin.
You ought to see the Spectator of the i6th. There is an
article on the Cxnobium which I am much inclined to think
you should answer. My impression is that it is by J. M.
Ludlow, a competent and sympathetic critic, who probably
knows more of the various Socialistic systems than any man
in England, and has paid some attention to religious orders.
What annoys me especially is his ending, in which he assumes
that the scheme is developed out of a glorified Cathedral
Chapter. This is so very captivating a suggestion, that it
ought to be silenced. His main complaint is that it gives no
help to the poor and the uneducated This comes from his
assumption that the inward advantage of the members them-
selves is wholly or chiefly aimed at, and the consequent failure
to see that a special and peculiar result is desired, requiring
special and peculiar means.
To THE Rev. Professor Maurice
St. Ippolyts, May ^h^ 187a
. . , You were by no means the only friend who hesitated,
to say the least, about the plan suggested in the petition, while
taking much the same view of the question at large. . . .
Westcott was inclined to accept the Dixon-Gladstonian-Time-
table-Clause, believing that all the classes except those of the
Church would be empty. But this again is bold speculation,
and leaves great risks as to the Boards and the teachers^
where it seems to me that the ' religious difficulty ' is serious,
however trivial it may be in the schoolsy about which people
seem to think exclusively.
The loss of the Catechism would be great, but I think the
gain would be worth the price. If only we can keep the
Creed as an acknowledged bond of union, that alone would
surely repay the loss. Too often now the Creed is lost in the
Catechism. But I am not sanguine about rescuing anything
except the free use of the Bible, which by itself is a precarious
bond. If only a plan can be adopted which does not stimulate
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 125
jealousies, all education must practically and unobtrusively fall
into the hands of the one body that can educate. . . .
Our petition concerns only Board schools, not '^ozx^-aided
schools. Perhaps we should have made this clearer.
To THE Rev. J. Ll. Davies
St. Ippolyts, May 14/A, 1870.
My dear Davies — Thanks for your letter and the papers,
which I return.
As far as I can see, my difference from the Association ^ is
fundamental Its leading members apparently take as first
principles the acknowledgment of the supremacy of 'the
nation,' the subordination of the clergy to the laity, the.
exclusive 'justice' of 'popular' government, and the like;
which are the negations of my most deeply-rooted convictions.
On the main question, that of parish organization, I agree with
nearly every word Fremantle says about the evil of the present
state of things, and could add more from my own point of
view. I believe also that the clerical autocracy will have to
be limited, and the laity in parishes have to receive recognized
powers ; that the change if judiciously effected will be greatly
for good; and that there is danger in delaying it. But I
should regard the imposition of the best possible constitution
by the authority and virtual initiative of Parliament as itself
one of the worst of evils ; and, whatever were my own opinion,
I should be sure that the mass of the best part of the clergy
would so regard it ; so that the result must be either an actual
schism on the largest scale or a state of heated animosity
against the civil power which would be as bad Again, the
greatest care would be needed to keep the parochial constitu-
tion, however introduced, from resulting in complete popular
supremacy ; which I should strongly deprecate.
On the other hand, the risk would be much diminished
supposing cautious tentatives to be made on the part of the
clergy themselves. Various influences are at work to urge
them in that direction, such as the needs arising from the
1 The 'Church Reform Association* (see pp. 58-61).
126 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
abolition of Church-rates, or (what has lately been presented to
us in this diocese for the first time) the election of lay repre-
sentatives for a Diocesan Conference. Of course many would
do nothing for a while; but the influence of example and
moral pressure would rapidly multiply in a case like this, where
public interest would be so strong. Then I should especially
look to two powers which are virtually ignored in the program
of the Association, the Bishop and the Diocese. Congregations
ought to have a remedy against violent alterations by the in-
cumbent ; but that remedy should, I think, be an increase ot
the bishop's effective authority. That again draws with it the
need of diocesan organization, which seems to me both more
important than parochial organization and its natural prede-
cessor. Several Bishops are already trying experiments in this
direction ; the subject is exciting interest, and one cannot
doubt that in a year or two the example will be widely
followed. The result must be an increase of common action
and interest between parishes, without which as rapid increase
of action within each single parish would land us in the hope-
less quagmire of Congregationalism. When the work spon-
taneously begun has made considerable progress and found
general approval among intelligent churchmen, clergy and
laity, of different schools, then it is quite possible that the
intervention of Parliament might be helpful and innocuous.
Premature universality would, I feel sure, be mischievous.
Convocation had best be let alone at present Its debates
are about the most irritating and depressing part of the litera-
ture of the day ; but I do really believe they do no small
inconspicuous good. When Diocesan Reform, in which the
Bishops must, and I think will, take the initiative, is fairly
established, it must spread upwards as well as downwards.
To give Convocation substantive power now would, as you
suggest, bring on a Hibernian separation, which I dread only
less than the subjection of the Church to * the nation.' I do
not think the danger need arise if the change were not made
till after clergy and laity had become accustomed to work
together for the Church on Diocesan Councils, and learned
the limits of their province. One hopes too that by that time
there would be a little less fanaticism on behalf of ' representa-
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 127
tion ' : if Convocation is bad now, what would it be without
its official members ?
What is really wanted on all sides is organization with a
view to co-operation ; which implies on the one hand that all
the members shall have recognized functions and rights, and
cm the other that the authority of the upper over the lower
members shall be distinctly maintained, while its abuses are
carefully guarded against
Of the four distinct liberative measures included under B,
I should be strongly in favour of the first three, — unless good
reasons now unknown to me should be found for keeping up
clerical subscription. I do not very well see what would be
gained by the increased liberty of preaching, while it would
have some evident inconveniences and risks. If it is meant
as an indirect way of opening communication with Dissenters,
I should prefer to see that policy put forward on its own merits
and considered in other bearings. Perhaps I am inclined to
be a bigot in the matter, though feeling strongly the evil of the
personal and social separation.
Immediate subdivision of all the dioceses is what I should
crave : it is hard otherwise to obtain the requisite increase in
the practical power of the bishop which is needed for almost
every purpose Whether the forms of Election and Confirma-
tion require any change of detail, I know not ; I should most
strongly object to the removal of the ' shams.' ^ If, in spite
of all efforts, disestablishment should come, the capitular
election would give an invaluable basis for any further adapta-
tions ; in its alienee we could hardly avoid being cursed with
some form of popular election. It seems to me important also
to keep up the Archbishop's function in the admission of new
bishops. A plan of superannuation for the clergy is much
wanted, but I am not sure that it is well to separate it from
other pressing questions of Church finance. It is monstrous
that there should be no funds for Church purposes except the
episcopal and clerical incomes, the Cathedral estates, and the
property in the hands of the Ecclesiastical Commissioners.
But here again Diocesan Reform seems to me the first step.
1 This word is substitated in the MS. (in inverted commas) for "forms
which seem to offend many people."
128 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vn
If the sale of next presentations and presentation of sons
and brothers were made illegal, private patronage would lose
nearly all its scandals. Even now it is surely invaluable.
Anything is better than uniformity, whether of parsons or of
patrons. All public patronage is too dangerously favourable
to meritorious mediocrity to bear much extension ; and it is
worse jobbed than any other when public opinion is weak. If
a veto is really required, which I doubt, it should be in some
form diocesan, not parochial.
No rational being doubts the need of a revised Bible ; and
the popular practical objections are worthless. Yet I have an
increasing feeling in favour of delay. Of course no revision
can be final, and it would be absurd to wait for perfection.
But the criticism of both Testaments, in text and interpretation
alike, appears to me to be just now in that chaotic state (in
Germany hardly if at all less than in England), that the results
of immediate revision would be peculiarly unsatis&ctory. . . .
I John V. 7 might be got rid of in a month ; and if that were
done, I should prefer to wait a few years.
The other suggested measures are in themselves manifestly
good. But I doubt the wisdom of binding them together as
parts of a general scheme of Church Reform, with which only
a single small section of Churchmen can sympathize, and
which may involve all in suspicion. B (2) is a matter wholly
for the civil power ; and C (3) in a great measure : surely it is
not well to mix them up with (say) the Athanasian Creed. I
have the strongest feeling of the mischief which the Athanasian
Creed is doing, and dread of the greater mischief likely to be
produced by mere tinkering. Yet who can expect a balance of
good from relief imposed from without until the call from
within is much louder and is more widely heard ? — Ever truly
yours, F. J. A. Hort.
From the Rev. J. Ll. Davies
18 Blandford Square, Afay 16M, 187a
My dear Hort — I must protest against the imputation of
the first principles which you dislike so much. How, I
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 129
wonder, did we suggest them? When you had suspected
these fiindamental principles, you must have read our pro-
gramme in the hostile spirit they excited.
Let us, by all means, have Diocesan Conferences. I
think they will do good; but they will not remedy, nor
hardly tend to remedy, the evils you consider so dangerous
as to require a remedy without delay. Looking over the
whole social and ecclesiastical system, it seems to me that
the dass most injuriously left without rights is that of
* parishioners.' We propose to give them, where they apply
for them, some powers which a philosopher might well con-
sider insignificant. Your remedy is — more Bishops and
more power for Bishops; for which you must apply to
Parliament; and, moreover. Bishops are appointed by the
Prime Minister, who is the nominee of the nation. Really, I
am inclined to charge back on you those dreadful first principles.
No doubt this remedy is an alternative one — I have
always said sa But it is curiously unacceptable to both
clergy and laity. I think no one amongst our correspond-
ents has suggested it. Several — one to-day — have objected
to our proposal to increase the number of Bishops.
I confess I am puzzled, as well as disappointed, by the
impression our Programme now makes upon you. — Ever
yours sincerely, J. Ll. Davies.
We don't want to increase the power *the nation' has
over the Church. The Legislature and the Minister have
already absolute power, limited by the indirect power of
resistance which the clergy and their adherents possess. We
want to give a crumb of 'local self-government' to the in-
habitants of parishes — a thing which would not tend at all
(but rather the contrary) to increase the subjection of *the
Church ' to * the nation.'
To THE Rev. J. Lu Davies
St. Ippolyts, Hitchin, May 17M, 1870.
My dear Davies — I gathered the supposed first principles
not from the present program alone, but from that in con-
VOL. II K
I30 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
junction with the earlier form which you sent me, and also
with what I knew (not much perhaps) of the persons whom
you had named as likely to take a lead; partly also from
what you said the other day in your letter about legislation.
I did not at all mean to identify you personally with all
those axioms, though neither was I sure how far you would
disclaim them. I rather thought that, feeling very strongly
on the parochial question, you were willing to join those who
would vigorously co-operate in that matter, without inquir-
ing too closely into principles. (Here I should probably
agree with you, if I took the same view as to legislation.)
Let me say in passing that the first of the first principles was
taken totidem verbis from the draft of the program. "With
reforms like these the Church of England may hope to
strengthen its title to be called both Catholic and National,
. . . National as acknowledging the supremacy ... of the
nation," etc The suppression of that paragraph would not
change the view of the leading promoters, which in the new
program is very justly hinted at as a thing that inquirers are
likely to wish to know.
After all, I fear I did not make my own meaning clear.
I meant to say that delay is dangerous, not that a remedy is
required without delay ; it is a balance of dangers. On the
other hand, I do not object to your remedy, but to its mode
of application, which I think would tear the patient to
pieces. I do not see how the Church is to be reanimated
without Parish Councils or something of the sort My feel-
ing on this point is so strong, that when your paper first came
the first impulse was simply to welcome it as giving a hope
that something might at last be done in that direction. But
that last paragraph stuck in my throat ; and further thought
only increased the dread of legislative or coercive means, and
also the hope that the desired object might at no great
distance of time be safely reached in other ways.
If what you want is to put down the Ritualists, then no
doubt our objects are different. Much as I dislike and
despise most of them, I would submit to a great deal for the
sake of protecting them. Where, not as Ritualists but as
autocrats, individual clergy introduce violent changes against
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 131
the wish of their parishes, there no doubt I should like to
see the Bishops enabled to interfere.
In that sense our remedies are alternative, but in no
other sense. It is not for any such penal or corrective pur-
pose that I care about Parish Councils. I do not look on
Diocesan Reform as a substitute for Parochial Reform, but
as the right way to reach Parochial Reform. Conferences
are merely the first step ; some more substantial constitution
must follow. But the great use of Diocesan movements is
that they stir up life, [and that] must lead to reform in
parishes. It is chiefly for the same reason that I want to
multiply Bishops.
Your plan surely involves a subjection of the Church to
the Nation in two ways. First, in the constitution itself,
for you would compel a vote to be given to every house-
holder, whether a Churchman or not Next, in the mode of
introduction, since you would impose the constitution by
authority of Parliament. The apparent permissiveness is not
a great advantage, for the natural result would be that the Act
would be put in force chiefly for the sake of coercing the
parson; that is, it would start from the very antagonism
which Parish Councils ought to preclude or softeiL When
both parson and people wish for a Council, and also are ripe
for it, they want no Act of Parliament, though in due time
one might be helpful to them. No doubt the laity would like
the statutory power; and a large majority of them (by no
means all except a few Church Unionists) would have no
coyness about receiving it at the hands of Parliament But
the 20,000 clergy are not quite ciphers ; and a very large
proportion of them would be infuriated. It is quite work
enough to get them to take up Parish Councils at all ; if you
add parliamentary compulsion, you wantonly embitter feelings
already none of the sweetest, and precipitate a schism.
It is very well to say that the Legislature and the minister
have absolute power. So has Louis Napoleon. But both in
theory only. Their real power is great enough, no doubt ;
but when it comes to coercing a clergy no longer made up
of hireUngs, whatever their other faults may be, absolute
power somehow finds sooner or later that it can't act. The
132 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
great problem now is how to keep whatever Christian belief
and life there is in the Church of England from being driven
into strong antagonism to all the secular powers; and it
seems to me that the mode of action which you propose
would enormously aggravate the difficulty. Clergy, even
more than laity, require to be * led, not driven.'
Nomination of Bishops by the Crown is now the best of
all arrangements; but it might easily become intolerable if
Ministers took to disregarding the opinion of the Church alto-
gether. The opposition to Hampden was contemptible ; but
no Church could endure a succession of such appointments
made in the spirit which Lord John showed then. I do not
myself in the least deprecate the intervention of the civil power,
Crown or Parliament, in a discreet way and at the right time ;
but I do say that nothing can avert an Irish catastrophe if
there is not discretion on the side of the civil power. You
say that I too must go to Parliament for my Bishops. No
doubt, but that is only for the extension and invigoration of
an existing authority. You want to compel the introduction
of a totally new polity.
You make a real point against me when you say that
people are shy of Bishops. No doubt it is so, but in great
measure from ignorance, both of the men and of their work.
I look to Diocesan Conferences and the hke to dissipate this
ignorance, and then I believe that the leading Churchmen in
each diocese will come to see something at least of the mani-
fold use of Bishops. When that much is won, we can afford
to fight the clubs and platform orators. You must remember
that much of the dread (as distinguished from the contempt)
of Bishops arises from their seeming autocracy, and that
vanishes as soon as Diocesan Councils are formed. When
they volunteer constitutions. Church Reform is approached
at the right end.
Of one thing we may be quite sure. Any good reform
will have to be carried against such people as . Their
one idea is putting down something or somebody, * Ritual-
ism ' or * Rationalism ' as the case may be. What can they
know of anything which has life in it ?
... I did not intend to write so long a letter; but I
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 133
should be sorry for you to misunderstand my view ; I want
Parish Councils ; and therefore I am terribly afraid of your
either making them impossible by causing them to be associ-
ated in people's minds with an odious mode of introduction,
or else succeeding in establishing them and then finding that
you have split up the Church. — Ever truly yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
Of course I don't want the parson to be swamped in his
Council But neither would you personally.
To HIS Wife
St. Ippolyts, May 30/A, 1870.
A very good and characteristic letter from Westcott, who
evidently knows no more than I do. He had had a similar
invitation^ (I see all the names are in the Pall Mall to-
night, which I got at the station). He feels very much as I
have done; does not like the plan, but thinks it very much
better than might have been expected, and believes we ought
to seize the opportunity, and do what we can, especially as
* we three ' are on the list He will wait for my answer till
to-morrow. I shall not quite decide till the early post, when
I hope to hear from Lightfoot, and will then telegraph to
Westcott. If you are asked point blank in consequence of
the list being in the papers, you had better say that I have
not yet made up my mind about accepting.
To HIS Wife
St. Ippolyts, May ^is/, 1870.
... No news, but that I have just written to EUicott to
accept ! This makes it a memorable day ; the beginning of
one knows not what changes or events in one's life, to say
nothing of public results.'
It is no longer a secret
^ To join the New Testament Revision Company.
134 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, yii
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. Ippolyts, /iw^ ij/, 1870.
... I wrote a formal acceptance to EUicott last night,
when Westcott was to do the same. For the future it is a
dear duty to suppress misgivings as far as may be, and to do
one's best for the work not only by personal contributions
but by cordial co-operation with the whole * Company.' You
must get rid of your Tunbridge engagement for that day, at
the cost of any breach of morality if necessary. Those early
meetings, but especially the first, will indeed be all-important,
and your help will be indispensable from every point of view.
To THE Rev. W. F. Moulton
St, Ippolyts, Hitchin,/««« 17M, 1870.
My dear Sir — It has long been on my mind to write and
thank you for a copy of your Winery which reached me, I am
shocked to find, four months ago. It came as 'from the
Publishers ' ; but I suspect that I have to thank you in the
first instance for their gift I had hoped before this to have
the pleasure of making your acquaintance in person through
our common friend Mr. Mayor ; but various hindrances have
prevented my staying at Twickenham with him as yet Now
that we are, I am glad to find, likely to become colleagues in
a great work, and moreover to meet next Wednesday, I cannot
forbear sending a line beforehand to say how much I think we
are all indebted to you for your book. You may possibly
have heard that some years ago I ventured to announce a
*free' translation of Winer. It never made great progress;
and, though not formally abandoned till now, was virtually
given up some time ago. Your book is on a more compre-
hensive plan. You have given everything that is in Winer,
and added an excellent synopsis of English criticism, where I
had intended to reproduce Winer's words only so far as I agreed
with them, and refer to English notes much more sparingly.
I am not at all sure that this compromise would have been a
good one ; and if I should hereafter attempt to carry out my
AOB 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 135
old design, it would certainly be on a very different plan,
independent of Winer and probably not in the form of a
grammar. It is a great relief to me to be relieved from all
responsibility as to Winer in so perfectly satisfactory a manner.
We shall all, I doubt not, learn much by discussion in the
New Testament Company. — Believe me, sincerely yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To HIS Wife
2 Onslow Square, /»#f^ 23^/, 1870. 9 a.m.
... I will first put down what you will most want to
know. All has gone off well, and promises very well.
I was in excellent time for the station. Westcott was on
the look-out, and we had much pleasant and satisfactory talk
on the way up. His sleeping-place was changed to Stanley's
Deanery ; so we parted company at South Kensington Station.
. . . [Next morning] I started by Metropolitan to Westminster
Bridge. At the station there I saw a portly figure with a roll
of blue paper in its hand which I instinctively recognized, and
ventured to suggest that we were bound on the same errand.
It was Dr. Eadie of Glasgow. The train was three minutes
late, and we had not a moment to lose, and had difficulty in
finding the right way into the Abbey ; but at last were ushered
into stalls in Henry VII.'s Chapel just before Stanley began
the service. It was one of the great services ^ of one's life, as
you may imagine ; very quiet, but singularly impressive. (We
owe it all, I find, to Westcott.) Only two were absent, one a
clergyman. Stanley alone officiated. We all knelt in a single
row round the grave of Edward VI., almost upon it. The
whole chapel is the most central spot of English history, full
of the tombs of the kings, with the old banners hanging from
the magnificent Perpendicular carving, and glimpses of the
still more glorious earlier Cathedral in different directions.
We walked quietly out in a sort of informal procession all
along the Cathedral, and then through the strange httle old
passage to the Jerusalem Chamber. But I must stop.
^ The Revisers* inaugural Communion Service, which provoked such a
violent controversy (see Dean Stanleys Ufe^ vol. ii pp* 216 folL)
136 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcx)tt
St. Ippolyts, /«iw 29M, 1870.
... I hope you were satisfied with the results of Thurs-
day's proceedings. The work done was small in bulk but
large in precedent ; and above all it seemed to me made clear
that the Company was quite able to discuss points touching on
serious doctrine with freedom and fiaimess.
To A Friend
St. Ifpolyts, /ufy pA, 1870.
. . . You have no doubt seen in the TYmes the work to
which the Committee of Convocation have set me. It was a
complete surprise. The circumstances under which the revi-
sion of the English Bible was proposed did not seem to me
encouraging to those who like to see a great work honestly and
well done if it is undertaken at all. But the promoters dis-
covered, I imagine, that they must either frankly accept fair
conditions or else expect to have the scheme discredited.
When, therefore, the invitation came to me, accompanied by
the list of persons similarly invited and by a set of pro-
visional rules, and I saw from these two documents that
there was really a fair chance of a wise revision, I felt that
I had no right to hold aloof or to refuse to give what help
I could. Our June meeting was most satisfactory. The
Communion in Henry VIL's Chapel was one of those few
great services which seem to mark points in one's life. There
was nothing to disturb its perfect quietness and solemnity ;
everything was kept out except the place, the occasion, the
communicants, and the service itself; and these combined
together into a marvellous whole. The two sessions of work
which followed carried on, rather than disturbed, the impres-
sion. The tone was admirable. It became evident that we
could work with thorough harmony, notwithstanding differ-
ences of all kinds ; and it was equally clear that all members
were ready and willing to bear their part in the discussions.
There are no doubt some possible rocks ahead ; but I think
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 137
that the exceUent spirit so widely spread will carry us over
them, or beside them. The wise folks who anticipate a
' Frenchified ' or jarring Bible would be edified if they could
hear Dean Stanley fighting for every antique phrase which can
be defended Next week we have three days more of work,
from 1 1 to 5 j and in October we recommence at the rate of
four days a month. As we have members from Aberdeen,
Dublin, and Cornwall, the four days are very properly taken
together.
The chief occasion, I suppose, of my being asked to join
is an enterprise which it would take a long time to explain on
paper, but which I have been wanting to tell you about in|
person when we might have time for a comfortable talk. Dr.
Westcott and myself have for above seventeen years been pre-
paring a Greek text of the New Testament It has been in
the press for some years, and we hope to have it out early in
next year. Meanwhile this English revision has decided us to
issue the Gospels separately, which we propose to do as soon
as we have been able to re-examine and correct the stereotype
plates. Thus revision in three or four different shapes at once
fully occupies us.
I have also been induced to take charge of the Logic
paper in the Cambridge Examination for Women, and I ex-
pect the answers to look over next week. The authorities
of Trinity have likewise persuaded me to examine for them
in Botany and Geology for their new Natural Science Fellow-
ship in the autumn. So that altogether I have not an idle
year.
The Maurices spent three days with us last week, to our
great happiness. I do not think he is seriously ill ; but he
looks worn. Mrs. Maurice told me she thought he would
have been fairly well but for a trouble which came upon him
while he was at Bath, which has haunted him ever since.
Have you any notion what it was ? I did not like to ask
further. He was in very fair spirits, and talked freely and de-
lightfully. He is now taking charge of Eversley while the
EJngsleys are at Chester.
138 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
To THE SAME FrIEND
St. Ippolyts, July 19M, 1870.
... I was perhaps fortunate in not having read criticisms
on the Royal Academy this year. I confess I found a
good deal to interest me in the one and a half hour which
I was able to snatch there some weeks ago. There were
no very great pictures, but there seemed much progress.
I thought especially that there were signs of our having
once more poetical landscapes, founded on real sight and
knowledge; for instance, all MacCallam's pictures, and also
the two by Brett (who began foithfully but prosaically
enough), especially his very remarkable 'Clare Island.'
Quite different, but well worth study, is Lear's 'Valdoniello
in Corsica.' Some of the portraits, too, struck me as un-
usually good. Millais' ' 48 ' is a curious piece of vengeance ;
a coarse Philistine insisted on being painted, and he has got
his wish 1 I wonder whether you remember * Ophelia ' ;
Millais has very curiously repeated it after ever so many years
in the very different guise of a * Flood ' ; but, despite the in-
crease in skill, one longs for some of the old simpleness and
tender power. His * Raleigh' and the 'Buccaneer' do not
aim very high, but they are admirable within their own limits.
Our work of last week gave even better promise than the
former session. The spirit was almost incredibly good. On
Wednesday we had a visit from my dear old master the Arch-
bishop, his first public appearance. He came round and
shook hands with everybody, said a few good words, sat down
for a little while the work proceeded, said a pleasant good-
bye, and went off. . . . It is quite impossible to judge of the
value of what appear to be trifling alterations merely by read-
ing them one after another. Taken together, they have often
important bearings which few would think of at first. There
is but one safe rule, to be as scrupulously exact as possible,
remembering, of course, that there is a truth of tone as well as
of grammar and dictionary. The difference between a picture
say of Raffaelle and a feeble copy of it is made up of a number
of trivial differences.
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 139
... I envy you for having heard Chunder Sen, evidently
a most worthy man. But, though quite ready to welcome light
from the East, I hardly think he has much to teach us, except
how far English Christianity has sunk from the apostolic
standard. — Yours very truly, F. J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, July 19M, \ «
Brecon, August loth, ] '
. . . The great event to me of the last few weeks has been
the Revision. . . . The feature of the whole assembly is the
almost miraculous harmony, shown in genuine co-operation
and cordial good-feeling all round. Indeed, what makes the
work so hopeful is the remarkable teachableness of almost
every one. We are all rapidly learning from each other and
from the experience of the work, and before long I think it
will be really well done. We have successfully resisted being
warned ofif dangerous ground, where the needs of revision re-
quired that it should not be shirked.
But what one goes back to again and again is that marvel-
lous Communion in Henry VII. 's Chapel, for which we have
to thank first Westcott, and then Stanley. Its quiet solemnity
with all the combinations of accompaniments is never to be
forgotten. It is, one can hardly doubt, the beginning of a
new period in Church history. So £u: the angry objectors
have reason for their astonishment. But it is strange that
they should not ask themselves what other alternatives were
preferable, and what is really lost to any great interest by the
union, for once, of all English Christians around the altar of
the Church. . . . But it is an endless subject
I hope you are on the whole satisfied with the Education
Bill. Forster's own personal ideal is evidently different from
any that we are likely to cherish ; the modified Quaker is still
strong in him. But I do think he has fought our battle suc-
cessfully as well as nobly. . . . The Church has a fair field,
and it is the fault of Churchmen if they do not now show that
they alone can educate. But powerful and speedy diocesan
organization is essential, and the Training Colleges will now
140 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
more than ever be the places into which our whole strength
must be thrown.
That word 'diocesan' suggests much on which I should
have been glad to exchange a few words, but I must not delay
this letter further. So also about this miserable war.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
[August f] 1870.
. . . Are you sure that in the turn things ^ are now taking
it is right to keep total silence ? There is the strangest blind-
ness about the Unitarian position, and the moral damage that
, would have been done to the acceptance of the Revision by
the laity if Unitarians had been outlawed as such. Also, is it
not amazing to see people who suppose themselves to be good
Churchmen abandoning the Catholic position and setting up a
'Trinitarian' Alliance? There is some real faith in the In-
carnation left in various quarters, but in England the Trinity
seems to have become the merest dogma. It has been killed,
one fears, by that hapless Quicunque vuU, and its substitution
of geometry for life.
To THE Rev. Dr. Lightfoot
St. John's Mount, Brecon, S. Wales,
September is/, 1870.
... It is, I think, difficult to measure the weight of
acceptance won beforehand for the Revision by the single fact
of our welcoming an Unitarian, if only the Company per-
severes in its present serious and faithful spirit. But what I
wanted to say on the whole was simply this, that English
people generally are already deeply interested about the Revi-
sion, but strangely ignorant, and that you may do the greatest
good by discussing the matter, and telling elementary facts,
coram populOy in the tone and with the authority that belong
to few except yourself. To preface the way for the reception
of the Revision is as good and necessary work as to help to
make the Revision itself good.
^ Viz. in the controversy about the Westminster Communion of June 22nd.
i
AGS 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 141
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. John's Mount, Brkcon, September 'jth^ 1870.
... I am very glad you are on the Conference. Just
now those seem to me almost the most necessary things to
push vigorously. I am haunted by the increasing Congrega-
tionalism within the Church. Parochial reform, greatly needed
though it be, will only make parishes still more isolated than
before, if diocesan reform does not precede, or at least proceed
pari passu. The lawlessness of the clergy is terrible. They
stand up against their parishioners, against each other, but
most of all against their bishops. To make dioceses and
bishops a reality is our first want, and (not only as the sole
means of counteracting the absurd popular jealousy of bishops,
but for all reasons) the first step is to make the bishop's
authority constitutional. Without vigorous diocesan action I
don't see how the education difficulties can be properly met ;
and time is cruelly precious.
So the third French Revolution of our generation has
begun 1 What to expect, or even wish for, I cannot yet see.
It seems clear that the French Empire had no longer any
good purpose to serve, and that the union of Germany by
such a sacrifice must be a blessing, and thus far the German
spirit has on the whole been noble. But one dreads for
Germany the intoxication of power and conquest (though I
entirely disbelieve their becoming a marauding race), and one
knows too well rcL ^aSri of France. What a strange half-sen-
tence to come from Michelet — ^become at last a prophet —
^^attendre et respecter Dieu^ qui va juger la nation^' / But
Trochu's is the only figure on which one can look with satis-
faction.— Ever affectionately yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To the Rev. Dr. Westoott
St. John's Mount, Brecon, September loth^ 1870.
. . . Have you not become more hopeful about the war ?
France is in a terrible state ; but is it worse for having been
laid bare ? The real evils were only masked. I have a strong
142 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
feeling (Monday morning) that the horrors of the war are
over without leaving behind a deadly heritage. A crowd of signs
in Saturday's Times makes me believe that, before operations
commence at Paris, an arrangement is possible on the basis of
razing Strasburg and Metz without cession of territory, and
further, that England is at this moment interposing in that
sense. Some German feeling (by no means all) is greedy ;
but the King is not, and all his words and acts have been
those of a Christian. And that singular conversation of
Bismarck with Holt White of the Poll Mali GazetU, the
authenticity and intentional significance of which I have
never been able to doubt, and which are strikingly confirmed
by later circumstantial evidence, shows plainly that this is the
line of conditions which Bismarck himself would prefer. Is it
too sanguine to hope that in a few hours Lord Lyons will
have ended the war on terms that give a fair promise of being
permanent ?
To HIS Wife
St. Ippolyts, September 2^rd, 1870.
... I am reading ^elix Holt in very little bits with very
great enjoyment That strange woman seems to have felt
everything. I don't know where to find so large and deep an
experience. Yet she seems unable to draw to any con-
clusion.
To HIS Wife
Lecture Room No. 3, Trinity College,
Cambridge, Michaelmas Day^ 1870.
... I came off to this room yesterday, where I found
Liveing and Trotter. After a little chat I took my vasculum
and toddled off to the Botanic Gardens, having first vainly
tried to catch Mayor that he might come with me. I was a
long time in the garden, and enjoyed it much. But there was
not much to be seen, and very little indeed that would serve
my purpose, though I spent an hour and a half wandering
about At this table where I am now writing with the
examination going on I have a vase of plants for them to
AGK 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 143
examine. In flower a pretty blue Plumbago^ looking rather
like a Fhlox^ a queer weedy white Petunia with a bad smell,
in flower and excellent fruit, and two batches of tolerably
dry fruit, Rhus Toxicodendron and Xanthium with its curious
burs. I gathered also a few seeds, and might with time have
got many more, but was also rather shy of taking them, as
Babington was not with me. The place is very delightful,
but I was sorry to see the botanical beds miserably kept. On
my way home I went to the University Library and did some
work and some chat with Bradshaw. Then came hall and
combination room, where we had a nice small party : Trotter,
Cobb, Clifford, and Crotch, all younger men, whom I was
not sorry to meet. The evening, or the rest of it, I spent
with Trotter.
To THE Rev. Professor Maurice
St. Ippolyts, November 2nd, 1870.
My dear Mr. Maurice — ^Thank you much for telling us
about the election.^ Along with your letter has come a card
of six words from Lightfoot, and nothing from any one else ;
so that your particulars were specially acceptable. The news
is so great, I hardly dare think of it. If Westcott has but life
and strength given him, I cannot but think this will be the
beginning of a new time for Cambridge. To yourself the
help of his presence will, I am sure, be great You must often
feel as if you were uttering words in a strange tongue j and
now you will have the certainty of at least one coadjutor
whose ears are opened. It is a special pleasure to think that
you and he are at last to be really in contact
To HIS Wife
2 Onslow Square, December 15^, 1870.
8.55 A.M.
. . . Pfere Hyacinthe was at the Deanery * after all, and I
missed him by not accepting the Dean's invite to dinner on
1 Vi£. of Dr. Westcott to the Regius Professorship of Divinity.
* Of Westminster.
144 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vm
Tuesday. However, I had a very pleasant evening^ and
escaped extra fotigue when I was overdone. I am glad to
say Westcott, who had a strong prejudice against the P^re,
and did not want to see him, was quite won by his simplicity
and modesty.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, February 15M, 1871.
... I have been a little thinking about John xiv. 6 as
supplying four subjects^; but perhaps they are all too vast
I do mean, however, to be looking forward without delay.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
65 Sloane Street, S.W., March gtk, 187 1.
... I Stayed Saturday in town to see the Exhibition, which
closed that day (I trust you have at least had a glimpse of
Botticelli's marvellous ' Nativity,' containing so much beyond
what one expects from any picture), and came home in the
evening.
I have just opened the Guardian^ and see that the great
protest against the Ritual judgement takes only the ground of
the 'position of the celebrant'; so I fear one can only hold
aloof. The zeal of ecclesiastics to claim to be like King
Sigismund super grammaticam is a singular fact — Ever
affectionately yours, Fenton J. A. Hort.
To the Rev. Professor Maurice
March 22nd, 187 1.
. . . Luard has also sent me this morning the 'Remon-
strance ' against the Purchas Judgement, to which your name
is added in ink. As I am writing, I am tempted to ask your
view about the * Remonstrance.' I have had a strong wish
' i.e. for the Hulsean Lectares.
AGE 42 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 145
to sign something by way of protest against the gratuitous
narrowing of the Church, but have not as yet been able to see
my way towards accepting this document
The first ' consideration ' makes some historical statements
which might be questioned. But that might be swallowed.
What makes me most hesitate is the form adopted. It is
a request from the Clergy to the Bishops "to abstain from
acting on the Decision" of the supreme court of the law.
Probably such abstinence will be right and wise ; but can we
publicly call on the Bishops to practise it? Are they not
guilty of formal contumacy against the law, if they forbear to
enforce that which the law has recently and expressly declared
to be tlu only legal position of the celebrant ? That is, is it
not formally part of their duty to see proprio motu that the
law, as interpreted by the proper authority, is universally
obeyed, so that custom and desuetude can no longer be
pleaded? Their position is already awkward enough. Do
we not injure it by compelling them either to obey the law
publicly or disobey it publicly ?
These are the doubts that have occurred to me. I feel
sure they must in some form have been present to your mind ;
and, as you have notwithstanding been able to see your way
to signing, I shall be really thankful to know what carried
most weight with you. The crisis is a very grave one, and
we ought in every legitimate way to resist the Moderates
in their attempt to carry out the demands of a noisy public
opinion* . . .
I hope Litchfield has sent you his Memorial to Forster
against the new discouragement to music in elementary
schools. Forster's concession on Monday seems to me to
make matters far worse than before, though with the best in-
tentions. What we want is music as a liberal means of educa-
tion added to the beggarly elements; but what he gives us
is, not music, but practically a few trivial school songs caught
up by ear. If he would only recognise the subject as an
extra for five or six years, at the end of that time he would
carry every one with him in enforcing universally the real
teaching of it.
VOL. II L
146 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER (aged 8)
Hunstanton, June 24/A, 1 87 1 .
My dear Ellen — I am much obliged for your letter, and
sorry to hear that Tabbietta has been lost However I dare-
say she had turned up again long before your letter reached
me. ... I shall be glad if you and Arthur would put a few
flowers in the little tin case which I left on the library table,
that I may take them to Dr. Westcott, if Ellis carries it to the
station. I should like a few nice pieces of Deutzia^ either
open or in bud, three or four pieces of the bright red Lychnis
Flos-Jovis^ a few pieces of the blue Lettuce with some buds
on, and two or three small but bright pieces of the Lupine,
with a few Lupine leaves. They should be cut just long
enough to go into the tin box without bending or breaking,
with the heads all the same way, and a few drops of water
(not much) sprinkled on the cut ends, but not on the flowering
ends.
Mamma has, I daresay, told you about the shore here,
with its shells and pebbles and pretty animals that look like
seaweed, and some real seaweed too. There is also such a
curious cliff, white (very white) on the top, bright red under
the white, and a pretty foxy brown under the red.
To HIS Wife
Chapter-House, St. Paul's, /«(k 25/A, 187 1.
. . . We have had some stiff battles to-day in Revision,
though without any ill feeling, and usually with good success.
But I more than ever felt how impossible it would be for
me to absent myself . . .
Lightfoot came in to Revision about half-past 1 1, Westcott
about half-past 12. I have had as yet next to no talk, as
they were not at Stanley's. It was a nice little party, with
some distinguished people : Sir Charles and Lady Trevelyan
(Lord Macaulay's sister), Panizzi, the British Museum Librarian,
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 147
Dr. and Mrs. Dasent, Madame Mohl, Miss Stanley (the Roman
Catholic sister of the Dean, who went out with Miss Nightingale),
Lady something Bruce (Lady Augusta, Stanley's sister), and Dr.
Milligan.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Jersey Marine Hotel, Briton Ferry Road,
Neath, S. Wales, September 2nd, 1871.
My dear Westcott — I must just send one line to say how
promising this place is. It is a still day of pearly mists, so
that it is hard to speak of air j but every now and then come
delicious breaths. We have an immense room with three
tables and five windows on three sides, which for the seaside
has divers advantages. The views are to my eye delightful,
despite the somewhat haycocky shape of the millstone grit
hills. All is full of strange and pleasant contrasts. In no
direction is there monotony, while the many level lines and level
spaces near and in the sea are most soothing. Daubigny alone
could paint the views, at least as they are to-day. The shore
is broad sand, with an abundance of bivalve shells, and even
echini and valves of stalked barnacles.
I send this just on the chance of your being still unfixed.
Ever since we came yesterday afternoon we have been wanting
you to help to occupy this room.
It enabled me to add a page or two this morning ! — Ever
affectionately yours, Fenton J. A. Hort.
To the Rev. Dr. Westcott
Briton Ferry Road, September loM, 187 1.
. . . We may believe that orthodoxy leads to truth, and
(or) truth to orthodoxy; but to identify them seems to me
to involve the practical loss of either the one or the other.
Moreover it is a sad fact that most orthodox criticism in
England is reckless of truth, and unjust to the authors of
other criticism.
148 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vji
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, October ^th, 1871.
My dear Westcott — One line, which may perhaps catch
you before you go to Nottingham, just to ask how long you
think the Hulsean Lectures should be in delivery. I have
spent much time on them ; and shall do hardly anything else,
at least in such hours as are fit for them, till they are done ;
but motion is slow.
. . . Local claims on time are unusually devouring just
now. There is endless school business, and the village is a
nest of typhoid and scarlet fever, involving much consideration
of difficult sewage questions, besides the care of the sick. But
all has its reward. — ^Ever affectionately yours,
Fenton J. A. HORT.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, October 13M, 187 1.
. . . We are building our new schoolroom, and subscriptions
have to be collected, and architect and builder seen, and new
mistresses to be inspected, and what not Also of all things
in the world I have to help Great Wymondley in some
manorial business. Next week comes Revision. I do not
half like leaving the sick, or being away from F. while she is
here near the sickness. But I dare not be away from Revision
after former experience of the necessity for both speaking and
voting incessantly. But what most occupies me now is the
Hulsean work, in which I am sadly backward ; and, alas ! I have
also undertaken Botany in the Natural Science Tripos. Thus
you see my backwardness is not idleness.
I forget whether I mentioned that in July we had at last
our Gospels^ with a short Introduction. I wish I could have
sent you one ; but we sent to no private friends, unless they
had some special claim as critics or scholars. Macmillan
rightly perhaps cut down this purely private issue to a small
^ Viz. the private issue of Westcott and Hort's Text of the Gospels; for
the Use of the Revisers,
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 149
number ; and the N. T. Company, with foreign and American
scholars, left only a small proportion for England.
Our love to your wife and children. — Ever affectionately
yours, Fenton J. A. Hort.
To Miss March Phillipps
St. Ippolyts, Hitchin, October 2^ih, 1871.
My dear Miss March Phillipps — I am much obliged to you
for letting me see your paper ^ on its way to Dr. Westcott.
I am accustomed to consider myself a stiffish Tory in these
matters except as regards education, — ^which is not really an
exception, — but what you say in this paper appears to me
nearly all right in principle, though I might be tempted to
question some of your facts.
While quite conscious that one is apt to generalize too
widely from one's own acquaintance, I cannot help thinking
that you over-estimate the amount and noxiousness of adverse
male opinion. I doubt whether even Saturday Reviewers
believe a quarter of their own rubbish. They go on pouring
it out, because they are afraid of each other's imaginary
criticism, and think it is the correct thing to say. This of
course is very bad in its own way, but it is not the sort of
badness that you make war upon. My own impression is
that the helpless charmer theory finds favour with very few
men except the supremely silly. If the average Briton is
obstructive in the matter, it is partly from his instinctive
Conservatism, partly from his not seeing his way to anything
practicable, partly from his suspicion of complicity with
ulterior theories which he does decidedly object to. But the
most powerful motive which leads fathers of families in at
least the upper classes to give their daughters an insufficient
education (about special training they are surely rather
apathetic than hostile) is, I imagine, simply want of means.
Good and protracted education is costly. Custom enforces
the sacrifices which have to be made on behalf of the boys ;
it makes no such requirements for the girls, and so the con-
^ On the Education of Women.
ISO FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
science is too sluggish to make head against the real neces-
sities of the purse. The custom thus reinforced naturally
acts even upon those whose means are ample.
On the other hand, I must say I think the vicious theory
is most dangerously rife among women, and especially mothers
of families. It is an axiom of the average sensible matron
that daughters must be decoratively prepared for the market,
but must on no account be solidly educated or trained, or
allowed after ' finishing ' to pursue or use their education, for
fear of failing in the market If they have misgivings of their
own, they quench them by repeating that *men like' — ^just
what men with the least stuff in them almost invariably hate.
Experience ought to have taught them better ; but what can
experience do against tradition? There is considerable
excuse for all this. The mothers are generally divided
between their families and 'society'; and in their society
these fabulous axioms live by interminable repetition, much
as do the axioms of male clubs. One main reason why
something like an University life is so much to be desired for
girls is that it ought to introduce a different and on the whole
wiser public opinion breaking in upon the tyrannous public
opinion of *home,' that is, half of it home proper (not by
any means always a very elevating atmosphere), but also at
least half of it merely the society which happens to surround
home.
You will forgive my saying this. Men and women are
both to blame in the matter. But it seems to me a pity to
give an excuse to men for holding aloof by assuming that
their true way of thinking is that which too anxious mothers
report it to be.
If I understand you rightly, you do not find fault with the
* wife-and-mother-and-mistress-of-household ' ideal, though
you most justly object to the absurd deductions from it As
far as I can see, what we want is to have that ideal taken up
in good earnest, not in the make-believe fashion that society
approves, and to carry it out to its legitimate consequences.
You, like many others, rightly cry out on behalf of the multi-
tudes of women in all classes who, as a matter of fact, are not
matrons, and ask why no account is taken of them. I cannot.
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 151
however, be hopeful about any remedy which would practi-
cally divide women into two sets even more than they are
now by setting up a separate (and virtually mannish) ideal for
the unmarried. Let only the matron ideal be properly
expanded and properly prepared for, and we shall find it, I
think, the most helpful for all alike. You do not say a word
too much about the shameful neglect of special training for
the special duties of matronhood ; indeed I should be glad if
you had spoken more distinctly about the education of
children as well as their 'management.' But this special
and quasi-professional training is only half, and perhaps the
lesser half^ of what is wanted ; it must be supplemented by a
solid 'liberal' education and cultivation (no matter by what
subjects), both for the sake of the quality of the professional
work itself and because nobody has any right to be merely a
professional machine. Now, so far as education and the
general ideas and arrangements of society among rational
people can keep this purpose in view for all wom^n^ so far,
I think, the unmarried will profit by it no less than the
married. Much of the work which women can do best, and
which is best done by women, consists of one or another
matronly function detached from the actual position of a
matron ; one might call it supplementary family work. There
is no doubt the home to be thought of as well as the work ;
and here there is more difficulty. The English family is
much too exclusive a body, and takes far too little account of
those who might be more or less closely associated with it
with happiness and benefit to both sides. Yet I am sure
this is the right point to start from. We must try to expand
the £imily and proper home, rather than accept homelessness
as the proper condition of the unmarried Nor has anything
serious reaUy been attempted yet in the way of making
artificial homes, if one may so call them, in the shape of
combinations for a common life, whether with or without a
common work
I do not forget the terrible and pressing difficulty arising
from the multitudes of helpless female hand-workers, though
this is a matter on which I know little, and unfortunately have
thought little. Happily you and others are taking up their
iSa FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
cause. Very possibly the case may require exceptional ex-
pedients. AH I would plead is that their pitiable need ought
not to give the law to our views of the whole question. They
must ultimately be benefited by the prevalence of sound
views and practices as to women in higher classes.
I would just say that my experience in this straw-plait
district is not favourable to any plan which makes skill
directed towards individual bread-winning the main thing for
women. A girl who is a skilful plaiter has plenty of money
soon after she has left school till she has been married two or
three years, and her (parents') family is none the better, for
she merely pays her mother a stated sum for board and
spends the rest upon herself. Except in a few families, the
old family feeling is sadly dissolved by the separate mercantile
interests, and the effect on the character of the women is
disastrous and permanent There are of course analogous
evils among the boys and men ; but the effects are not so
lasting, nor, as far as I can judge, so corrupting.
With regard to the guild, I am sure it is a move in the
right direction. Some concentration is needed to resist the
prevalent idleness and display. About details Dr. Westcott
can write with more effect, as he has long been specially
interested in the subject He will, I suspect, urge that the
guild should be primarily of families (including, therefore,
both sexes), not of women, though individual women might
be members, and the greater part of the direct work could
only be done by women. The kind of help that you propose
between women of different classes would be invaluable, but
harm would be done if it could be plausibly represented as a
female freemasonry ; so that the subordination to the general
purposes of the guild as equally male and female ought to be
evident
I have written hurriedly, being desperately busy just now,
but I was glad of the opportunity of saying something. I
think I see my way pretty clearly on the chief matters of
principle, though my impressions are vague enough about the
applications. It is somewhat presumptuous to write to you
as I have done, but I think you will forgive it — Believe me,
very truly yours, Fenton J. A. Hort.
AGB 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 153
To THE Rev. Dr, Westcott
St. Ippolyts, November S/A, 1871.
My dear Westcott — Could the time have been afforded, I
must have run over to-day or to-morrow to discuss with you
the Bishop of Ely's most kind and encouraging letter.^ Now
I must perforce ask you to help me to decide. I do not
imagine that I have any special fitness for the work. Shyness
that is, I fear, inveterate, not to call it cowardice, would be a
constant hindrance. Yet if I could only do the work properly,
the position is one that I should value extremely. It would
be a privilege to take part in the expanding diocesan work of
a diocese so actively in motion as Ely, and to be associated
with a Bishop whom I so much love and admire. The having
to deal with Cambridge resident candidates, if full of difficulty,
would also be full of interest, and one might hope to be able
to do something towards gaining adequate recognition for both
University work and proper Cathedral work from those who
lead the diocese on the * secular ' or parochial side. All this
is tempting.
But I much fear it is a temptation which it is a duty to
resist Two reasons weigh on me. First, time. Were the
Revision non-existent I should be less afraid on this score.
But my parish already suffers more than it ought from other
avocations, and especially from Revision. It may not do
harm to take on this or that single bit of work besides, or the
good may outbalance the harm. But I really do not see how
I can keep everyMng from suffering severely if I am to be at
Cambridge or Ely for three or four weeks in every year, and
besides to prepare papers and conduct correspondence, to say
nothing of communications after ordination. Secondly, the
Bishop of Ely is one of the most sincerely tolerant of men ;
but ought his Examining Chaplain to need his toleration ? and
should not I need it ? Ought he not for that special woric to
have some one who can naturally and truthfully move more
near the beaten tracks ?
Post here, and I must close. But I have said the main
^ Inviting Hort to become his Examining Chaplain.
154 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
things. I should not wish to feel that I could not publish
without risk of injuring the Bishop, to say nothing of paining
him. — Ever affectionately yoUrs, Fenton J. A. Hort.
To THE Bishop of Ely (Dr. Harold Browne)
St. Ippolyts, Hitchin, November %thy 1871.
My dear Lord Bishop — It is certainly not for want of
any encouragement that you could give me that I have found
myself in sore perplexity since I received your letter. The
office which you offer me is one of great and growing interest
It would give me unfeigned delight to be associated personally
with your Lordship in your work for the Church. Believing
as I do that the revival of diocesan organization is the most
needful step just now towards the restoration of the life and
power of the Church, I should think it a high privilege to bear
a part in the central work of the diocese of Ely. The peculiar
relations of your diocese with Cambridge, if they increase the
difficulty and responsibility, yet are likewise attractive to one
who, like myself, has a strong sympathy with all the aims and
labours of the University.
Yet I have good reasons for hesitation. I doubt greatly
whether I possess some of the qualifications needed in one
who would have so much to do with candidates for ordination.
I doubt also whether I have any right to undertake a fixed
series of grave periodical duties in addition to those of which
I cannot divest myself The duties of this by no means small
or easy cure, never as yet at all adequately performed, claim a
large part of my time. The Revision of the English New
Testament consumes many days of the year, both at West-
minster and in preparation. Various other more or less
similar work, long undertaken, ought not to be neglected or
abandoned without a clearly imperative necessity. Leisure I
have none to appropriate. When at home, it is rare for me
to have any relaxation in the day, or to cease working till bed-
time. Having trusted too much to a good constitution, I
long ago wasted health and vigour which I have but very
partially recovered.
AGB 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 155
Nevertheless Dr. Westcott, who is well acquainted with all
these facts, so strongly urges me to accept your Lordship's
proposal that I should put aside my own misgivings and ven-
ture at least to make the experiment if I were not restrained
by another consideration. This also I mentioned to Dr.
Westcott. He takes no distinct notice of it in his reply ; so
that doubtless he regards it as of less weight than I must con-
tinue to da But in any case it ought to be fully brought
before your Lordship.
My fear is that, partly in views, and still more in sym-
pathies, I do not sufficiently conform to any of the recognized
standards to be a fit person for the special post which you
offer me. I have a lively sense of your Lordship's unfeigned
charity of judgement and Christian tolerance. But your
examining chaplain ought not to need your tolerance, and
perhaps I might I have, I trust, a firm and assured belief
in the reality of revelation, the authority of Scripture, the
uniqueness and supremacy of the Gospels, the truth and
permanent value of the earlier Creeds (if I value the * Athan-
asian ' symbol less highly, it is certainly not from any doubt
or indifference about the Holy Trinity), the Divine mission
and authority of the Church and her institutions, and the like.
I mention these points as characteristic, and at the present
time more or less crucial, not as an exhaustive list But, on
the other hand, on what might be called the details and acces-
sories of even these matters of faith, I am not sure that my
views, so far as they are fixed, would be generally accepted in
all respects. Thus, to give an instance, there are difficulties,
possibly serious, concerning parts of the Old Testament about
which I do not clearly see my way ; though, on the other hand,
I have never been able to devote to them the requisite study.
Moreover, Mr. Maurice has been a dear friend of mine for
twenty-three years, and I have been deeply influenced by his
books. To myself it seems that I owe to them chiefly a firm and
fiill hold of the Christian faith ; but they have led me to doubt
whether the Christian faith is adequately or purely represented
in all respects in the accepted doctrines of any living school.
Further, I have not merely a keen interest in criticism,
physical science, and philosophy, but a conviction that their
156 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
vigorous and independent progress is to be desired for the sake
of mankind, even when for the time they seem to be acting to
the injury of faith. I have friends of various creeds and
creedlessness, from whom I believe I should do wrong to
dissociate myself. It is quite possible that I might wish to
write papers or books in which some of these facts would
unavoidably come to light. To put myself without a very
clear call in a position in which such ways would be thought
incongruous by those who have a right to judge would, I ven-
ture to think, be wrong. As for individual liberty or liking,
that is a very small matter. But it would not be a small
matter to give up the power of serving the Church by acting
as in some sort a connecting link with those who, though out-
side her special work, and often at variance with her, ought
likewise, as it seems to me, to be recognized as her friends, if
unwilling friends.
I have now laid before your Lordship what has been pass-
ing in my mind. If^ under all the circumstances, you prefer to
seek another chaplain, I shall perfectly understand that you
will not be implying any doubt about myself or my present
position, but simply judging that it is fittest and wisest not to
offer me a somewhat peculiar post I wish therefore, mean-
while, to consider your offer as not made. If, however, after
considering what I have ventured to say, your Lordship prefers
to renew the offer, I should not think it right to refuse it, if I
might accept it without pledging myself to hold the office per-
manently. I would strive cheerfully and hopefully to dis-
charge its duties to the best of my power, but should at the
same time be glad to feel that, if after sufficient experience I
found them too arduous for me, I might without breach of
faith ask you to relieve me. I need hardly add an assurance
that, if for any reason your Lordship should hereafter have the
slightest wish that I should cease to discharge these duties, I
shall not misunderstand either the feeling or the motive.
It is taking a great liberty to say all this ; but under the
circumstances it appears to be right It will at least enable
me to accept your Lordship's decision with a clear conscience,
whatever it may be. — I remain, your obliged and faithful
servant, Fenton J. A. Hort.
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 157
To THE Bishop of Ely
St. Ippolyts, Hitchin, November 12M, 187 1.
My dear Lord Bishop — I am sincerely obliged for your
letter, and for the kind way in which you meet my scruples.
I feel entirely with you that a fundamental difference on the
subject of the Atonement, if it existed, would place me in a
false position as your examining chaplain. I suppose that
the reason why it did not occur to me to refer expressly to
this point when I was mentioning others is the fact that
during the last few years it has been less a subject of con-
troversy than it was a few years earlier. But in any case I
must regret my neglect
As regards the doctrine of the Atonement itself, I do not
think there is a word in your Lordship's statement which I
could not cordially accept as my own. If there is any
difference, it concerns only the relation of the Atonement to
other doctrines. I feel most strongly the truth of what you
say about sin and atonement as answering to each other.
Christian peace comes not from sin denied, or sin ignored,
but sin washed away. If it was not washed effectually away
once for all upon the Cross, an awakened conscience has no
refuge but in futile efforts after a heathenish self-atonement.
Nor can I see how, man being what he is now, the Incarna-
tion could bring about a complete redemption unless it
included a true Atonement The Resurrection itself loses
more than half its power, if spiritual death has not been
conquered as well as natural death. About the manner of
the Atonement, we must all feel that it lies in a region into
which we can have only glimpses, and that all figures taken
from things below are of necessity partial and imperfect It
is the vain attempt to bring the Divine truth down to the
level of our own understandings that has created all the dark
perversions of the Atonement which have justly offended
sensitive consciences, and so given occasion to the denial of
the truth itself.
But it does not seem to me any disparagement to the
sufferings and death of the Cross to believe that they were
158 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
the acting out and the manifestation of an eternal sacrifice,
even as we believe that the sonship proceeding from the
miraculous birth of the Virgin Mary was the acting out and
manifestation of the eternal Sonship. So also the uniqueness
of the great Sacrifice seems to me not to consist in its being
a substitute which makes all other sacrifices useless and
unmeaning, but in its giving them the power and meaning
which of themselves they could not have. Christ is not
merely our Priest but our High priest, or priest of priests ;
and this title seems to me to give reality to Christian, as it
did to Jewish, priesthood; both to the universal priesthood
of the Church and to the representative priesthood of the
apostolic ministry, without which the idea of any priesthood
vanishes into an empty metaphor.
I have thought it best to speak for myself without
reference to the views of any other. But you will, I am sure,
forgive me for expressing a belief that Mr. Maurice would
assent entirely to what I have said. He may have dwelt too
exclusively on that idea of sacrifice which is suggested by
Hebrews x. 5-10^ and he may have fiailed to make clear
that Sacrifice is not the only way of conceiving Atonement
I remember that his book on Sacrifice disappointed me at
the time, while I had the feeling that, if I read it over again
and again pen in hand (which I have never done), I should
find a more solid and valuable residuum. In common with
several of his later books, it suffers partly from its diffuseness
and laxity of form, partly firom his extreme anxiety to dwell
on the partial truths felt after by those from whom he differs,
so that he often fails to give sufficient prominence to the
truth which he assumes. He does, I fear, sometimes wrest
Scripture unawares in some single direction; but I know
none who submits himself to it with greater reverence, or is
more desirous to be helped towards the understanding of it
by the teaching of the Church of all ages. But enough of
this.
I have now only to place myself in your Lordship's hands,
for the renewal of your proposal or not, as you may think
best. — I remain, your Lordship's faithful servant,
Fenton J. A. HORT.
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 159
From the Bishop of Ely
Palace, Ely, November i%th^ 187 1.
... I am quite satisfied from all I know of you that,
if you are willing to work with me, I shall be a great gainer
by your help.
I believe from what you kindly write that there is no funda-
mental difference between us on the doctrine of the Atone-
ment, and I am disposed to flatter myself that there may be
great sympathy between us on many points. You, no doubt,
have had more time and more power than I have had to carry
out trains of thought, and mine may be more crude, but they
have not been carelessly followed.
I hope I may have misconceived Maurice ; for on the sub-
ject in question I have been a good deal pained by his writings.
I entirely feel with you that it is quite possible to believe the
sacrifice of Christ to be the acting out and manifestation of
an eternal principle, without disparaging the atoning power of
that Sacrifice. What I fear is that Mr. Maurice does substitute
the one thought for the other, and does not combine the two.
I have, however, acknowledged that it is probably fifteen years
since I read the book, and that I may have misconceived him.
He is certainly often very obscure from the causes which you
so truly dwell upon.
I will not weary you with more, but once again say that,
if you are willing to give my diocese the benefit of your
labours, as examiner of my candidates for orders, and myself
your countenance and help as chaplain and counsellor, I shall
thankfully accept your co-operation. — Believe me, most truly
yours, E. H. Ely.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, November 20/A, 1871.
My dear Westcott — Yesterday morning's post brought a
very kind and unhesitating renewal of the proposal from the
Bishop. I have just written to accept it I find it hard not
to be full of misgiving ; but the work is great, and you must take
me as your pupil, as twenty-one (almost twenty-two) years ago.
i6o FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. Ippolyts, December ist, 1871.
My dear Westcott — Alas ! I have nothing to send. I have
not touched III.^ since I saw you, and what was then written
would be useless to forward. I have worked incessantly,
despite less favourable health, and have only this moment
finished No. II. Indeed I have still to do the cutting out,
for which your sketch will be helpful but not decisive, as my
old pages were very crowded, and I have had to change much
in various ways. A great deal that stood on the sheets could
not in any wise be rendered into reasonable speech. The
result now is 90 pp., and I fancy I must cut out 60.
As far as I can see, I must abjure Revision this time, — a
real penance, for the Bemdictus and Nunc Dimittis will come.
Of course I will do all I can next week ; but I must be pre-
pared for not having touched IV. when III. has to be preached.
I think you know that we are to be at the Lodge from to-
morrow to Monday ; then at the Luards' till Thursday 2 p.m.,
unless I should find it best not to go home that week at alL
It is humiliating. I have had to ask my curate to take my
place at the night-school with Mrs. Hort to-night and next
Friday. Indeed I am doing absolutely nothing but Hulseans ;
and it is rather stupefying. However Vbrwdrts. — Ever affec-
tionately yours, Fenton J. A. Hort.
Natural Sciences Tripos all next week ; Class list on the day
after last Hulsean.
To HIS Wife
Trinity College, Cambridge,
December ipA, 1871. 9.20 P.M.
... I had a very fair night without coughing, and am
not amiss to day. Only I cannot get up the brightness that I
want for the subject.^ I stick in the heavy clay. However,
let us trust things will turn out well
It is altogether a very odd state of things, and I feel very
much as if I were somewhere in the moon. Anything less
like ' Cambridge life ' can hardly be imagined.
^ ue, the third Hulsean lecture. * The Hulsean Lectures.
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK i6i
To HIS Wife
Trinity College, Cambridge,
December i ^ih^ 1 87 1 . 9. 1 5 P. M.
. . . Here I am still ! However, only a very few pages
remain, and if I am not very unlucky, I hope to get one day
in town. I shall not be able to go to Onslow Square, but
shall probably dine with Lightfoot and Westcott, as I want the
latter to sec my sermon. I fear it is very heavy and difficult,
much the worst of the four instead of the best, as I had hoped.
To HIS Wife
Trinity College, Cambridge,
December 17M, 1871. 5.25 p.m.
I have just time to scribble you a few lines before chapel.
The last Hulsean is delivered, — a real deliverance to me.
Yesterday I thought I could have added and improved much ;
but when I came home from the Lodge at near 1 1, 1 felt that
I should do no real good at either lecture or papers, so I went
to bed, and had a good night's rest. All this morning I sat at
my table, but with very poor success. I managed to add four
tolerable pages at the end ; but was not able to go over the
whole, and consequently made two or three slips in delivery.
However, it was nothing very bad.
I have seen Lightfoot and also the Maurices. Maurice
asked me about Emmanuel, but cannot remember who spoke of
it to him. Of course I told him all under the circumstances.
Now I believe I ought to go, if I am to find a place in
chapel. At 7 I dine in Hall, as the Master brings Mountague
Bernard in. It was a pleasant evening at the Lodge ; only Burn
and Latham besides.
To HIS Wife
Trinity College Cambridge,
December 18M, 187 1. 6.40 P.M.
At last the Tripos is over. Trotter and I have just been
giving out the list in the Senate-house, and then been to
chapel Nothing remains except a little report on the Botany,
which I find I must do in a day or two. Now I think I shall
VOL. II M
i62 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chaf. vii
go to bed. Hall would be pleasant, and so would be the
Maurices, who wanted me yesterday to dine to-night, but pro-
mised to excuse me if I did not come. But the fact is, I was
up all night looking over papers, and had finished only half
an hour before the time ; so that I do rather want sleep, and
really think I shall be virtuous enough to plunge into it at
once.
To THE Rev. Dr. WESTCorr
St. Ippolyts, Detember iZthy 1871.
My dear Westcott — I believe I had not opportunity to tell
you on the i8th that two days before I had definitely decided
to go to Emmanuel, if they wish to have me, and that Phear
seemed to be hopeful about the election, certainly more so
than he had been. I also decided to take the house, leaving
the negotiation in Luard's hands. The interval of suspense is
a strange time. I fear it will be some weeks before I get over
the pressure of these last weeks. It is unlucky, for much
home work presses in its turn. Yet there is also a satisfaction
in that combination of the Natural Sciences Tripos and of
Revision with the Hulseans. Just at present it seems useless
to attempt to touch the third and fourth lectures, that is, to
deal with any speculative subject. But I am impatient to have
done with the work. You will, I am sure, allow me to send
you the slips of proof for suggestions. I wish we could have
had some talk about the title. I can think of nothing better
than * the Revelation of the Way.' It is not quite adequate,
but it avoids some objections which I should make to others
more obvious. No title single in form and simple in language
could express the drift of the whole. It seems impossible to
go beyond slight indication.
By the way, the Emmanuel election is likely to be in next
Revision, though the day is uncertain.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ipvolvts, /anuaty 5/A, 187a.
My dear Ellerton — ^Very many thanks for your letter and
all its fixings. I will answer it if I can, but I want first of
AGB 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 163
all just to ask one question, which I ought to have distinctly
asked long ago. Would you like any criticisms that I may
write on hymns to be such as you can show without scruple
to your coadjutors, or not ? Hitherto I have been writing as
though talking over tea and marmalade at 2 a.m. in the New
Court, but I rather gather that you have not regarded what I
sent as for yourself only. If so, I have no doubt you have
had good reason for what you have done, but still I should
like to know for the future, as I should prefer to use more
temperate language. Evidently each way of writing has its
disadvantage. I will try hard to look over some hymns
quickly, but time is still scant
Except in the last two or three weeks, I had not wits for
touching the Hulseans in the holidays, when I had hoped to
complete them ! Accordingly they were very engrossing in
the autumn, and the fevers here also took up much time in
various ways. For the first Cambridge Sunday F. and I
went up to the Maurices', sleeping, however, at the Luards*
next door. The following Sunday we were at Trinity Lodge.
Thompson was kindness and goodness itself and full of
interesting talk, and his wife was also very pleasant From
Monday to Thursday we spent at the Luards'. On the
Saturday I returned to Cambridge alone, but found it needful
to go into rooms in Trinity if work was to be done. The
second week had had in it the Natural Science Tripos, which
consumed time. The third week I stayed up at Cambridge,
my No. IV. not having been written. But I was so wearied
and stupefied that I wrote slowly and badly, and (for the first
time) h^d to sacrifice three days of Revision. Having finished
after a fashion about 5 on Friday morning, I ran up to
town for the day, so as to put in one appearance at the
Jerusalem Chamber, and not quite lose the session; but I
had already lost the Benedictus^ Nunc DimitHs^ and Angelic
Hymn, to my great distress. That night I spent at home,
partly to see my cousin Georgina Chavasse, whom otherwise I
should have missed. Next morning was full of school
business, and the afternoon at Cambridge was engrossed by
other claimants, so that I was barely able to look a little over
my rough lecture before preaching it, and when bedtime came
i64 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, yii
on Sunday night, I realized that I had scarcely made any
impression previously on my pile of Botany papers, while we
were to meet to make out the list before 2 next day. I had
therefore to sit up, and for fourteen hours I worked ahead,
breaking off only for breakfast and toilette, and emerged half
an hour before the time.^
The third and fourth lectures will both require large
additions, and perhaps will have to be in part rewritten. I
had no clearness or elasticity of mind when they were com-
posed ; nor have I as yet, which is a great nuisance, for I am
most anxious to have the book out without delay. It will
have no notes and no references, also no quotations or proper
names except from the Bible. The first and second lectures
were written in full at once, and only selections from them
preached, so that I hope they will not want much more than
verbal correction. Indeed Westcott is urging me to print
them without waiting. The book will contain a good deal
that seems to myself important and fundamental, but I am
not very sanguine about success in expressing what has been
in my mind. I do not at all expect to please even intelligent
'organs' of either the Conservatives or the Liberals, if,
indeed, they find out anything substantial enough to be worth
criticizing.
I have just finished Bowden's rather clumsy and very
imperfect Memoir of Faber. It has left with me a higher
impression of Faber's own power, energy, and goodness than
I had before. But it convinces me more than ever how
deeply his whole nature was saturated with idolatry, and how
alienated he consequently became — quite unawares — from the
Bible, the Fathers, and the Middle Ages. Nearly all that is
good in his later religion was what survived from the influence
^ It may be of interest to put the events of these few days into the form
of a time-table : —
Tliursday — Up all night, writing fourth Hulsean lecture.
Friday — ^To London for Revision meeting, and to SL Ippolyts for the
night.
Saturday — Morning, parochial business; afternoon, to Cambridge;
business at Cambridge.
Sunday — Preached fourth Hulsean lecture; up all night, and tiU 1.30
P.M. on Monday with Botany papers.
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 165
of Newman and Oxford It is most instructive to see how, as
he was well aware, his Italianism was but a more consistent
carrying out of his early Evangelicalism.
Possibly you have not heard that I have become Harold
Browne's Examining Chaplain. I have only seen him two or
three times in my life, not at all intimately, and was amazed
when he made the proposal, in the kindest terms. I wrote to
warn him that I was not safe or traditional in my theology,
and that I could not give up association with heretics and such
like ; but after a single question he made no difficulty. I had
no time for the Christmas Ordination, so shall not act till the
Trinity time. Westcott very strongly urged me to accept. I
may possibly be useful as a link between Cambridge fellows
and the Bishop, and also as helping to consolidate the line of
Eastern dioceses, which are not unlikely, under Westcott's
guidance, to msJce a united effort to improve and prolong
clerical education.
To THE Bishop of Rochester
St. Ippolyts, Hitchin, /onMor^ lOtAj 1872.
My dear Lord Bishop — It has become my duty to lay
before you the following circumstances. The Master and a
majority of the Fellows of Emmanuel College, Cambridge, are
desirous to put in force a statute of ten years ago, permitting
them to elect to a Fellowship ^^Aliquem virum ob literas vel
scUniiam insignem, etiatnsi uxorem duxerit^ qui nee beneficium
in Ecclesia extra Universitatem habeaf nee Magister sit nee socius
alius CoUegiiJ^
They also wish me to be the Fellow elected under these
circumstances. Their purpose is to carry into effect more
completely than heretofore the original intention of the
Founder that the College should specially promote the study
of Divinity, and the education of students for Holy Orders in
particular ; and with this view they desire the Fellow elected
under the new statute to deliver lectures in Theology. . . .
Your Lordship will readily believe that I cannot look
forward without much pain to separation from your own
1 66 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
diocese, and from the parishes which have been in my
charge for fourteen years and a half. Yet I feel that my
duty is clear. This proposal came upon me a very short
time ago unsought and unexpected. It does not tempt by
increase of income (though such an increase would have been
not a luxury, but a release from serious care) ; for the change
will be little, if at all, better in this respect But I cannot
help feeling that a younger and more vigorous man would
have a prospect of being more useful to my parishes than I
have succeeded in being. And on the other hand, I cannot
help hoping that I may be able with better effect to help
those who are carrying on the educational work of the Church
in the University, which is daily growing in importance. . . .
I remain, with much respect and gratitude, your Lordship's
faithful servant, F. J. A^ Hort.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott.
St. IvvoiYTSf /anuafy iiM, 1872.
... I wish you were here to see a blossom of the great
white Madagascar orchid Angoracum sesquipedale, which was
given Mrs. Hort early in the week. It is to last some ten days
more. The spur is really all but a foot long. One feels
towards it almost as towards a fetish. From tip to tip of the
waxy sepals is 6f inches. — Ever affectionately yours,
F. J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, February $tA, 1872.
My dear Ellerton — One line to tell you of the strange fate
that has befallen me. On Friday I ceased to be Vicar of
St Ippolyts, and on Saturday I became Fellow of Emmanuel
I have not time to-day to tell you the whole story, but the
main fiacts are that the College, under George Fhear, its new
Master, proposes to carry out its founder Sir Walter Mild*
may's intention by becoming mainly theological, and under-
taking the instruction of candidates for Orders.
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 167
. . . Westcott and Lightfoot urged me strongly not to
decline it, and so the die is cast One cannot but have many
misgivings as well as many regrets. Yet I feel sure that the
decision was right. It is a high privilege to hold office in
Cambridge in the time that seems coming for Cambridge,
and especially to bear a part there in theological education.
Westcott is resuscitating the theological faculty from its sleep
of centuries, — supported thus far by all resident members of
the Faculty, — and one cannot but be hopeful as to the results.
They are to meet at Holy Communion on Wednesday morning,
and Westcott has invited me to join, though I have not yet
taken a Divinity degree, as under the new state of things it is
clear that I ought to do.
... At this moment No. 6 St Peter's Terrace is ours,
three doors from the Maurices', two from the Luards', and a
few yards from the Westcotts*. If you and Mrs. EUerton and
(or) Frank are not able to come to us before we leave this
home of nearly fifteen years, we trust you will very speedily
come and see how the outward face of Cambridge has changed.
— Ever affectionately yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To
St. Ippolyts, February $thy 1872.
... I am not going into dignified literary ease diversified
with a little light lecturing. I am going into incessant, laborious,
and anxious work; during term-time probably the hardest
work I have ever had except tor two or three days at a time.
I shall have far less quiet home enjoyment, which I do very
greatly prize ; I shall see much less of F. ; I shall lose the
country and the garden, which are a constant refreshment to
me
Why then do I go ? Simply because I should do very wrong
not to go when I have so clear a call I hope I am not use-
less here, but the work here is not of a kind which consti-
tutionally I am able to do as I feel it ought to be done. On
the other hand, I cannot help hoping that I might be able to
do well such work as is now offered me, and also that from a
i68 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
variety of circumstances I might be helpful at Cambridge now
when help is greatly needed there, and when theological work
especially has a most promising field. If I were to set about
considering how I could get most enjoyment or ease, or how
to grow richest, or how to get the most honourable position, I
don't in the least know how I should set about it Like
everybody else, I feel the temptation to think much of these
things, and give way to it only too often. But I think I can
honestly say that I desire to put them entirely out of sight
now and all my days, and that it is no such motives as these
that are leading me to Cambridge. Dixi, >
To HIS Father
St. Ippolyts, February S/A, 1872.
. . . Yesterday was a very odd Sunday to us. We thought
it best to hold our secret till this morning, so no one here
knew what had happened. It was very strange to feel that
ever3rthing around had ceased to belong to us. To-day has
been in its own way a Black Monday. We have had to tell
not a few people to whom we were aware that the news would
be a considerable shock. As far as possible, I did this by
writing, which has given much labour but saved much pain.
All such answers as we have received have been most cordial
and pleasant.
With regard to my future, I really cannot venture to look
forward. I am invited to Cambridge to take part in most
important work, and so to Cambridge I go. The days of
sinecures and non-residence are, thank God, gone by, or nearly
so, and I can imagine few things less likely than a living being
offered me. Certainly under present circumstances it would
simply frustrate the responsibilities which I am undertaking.
It might be that a Divinity Professorship might in time offer
itself Anyhow, my duty now lies clearly at Cambridge, and
the horizon stretches no further — ^if it could stretch further.
Post here. — Ever your affectionate son,
F. J. A. HoRT.
AGE 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 169
To THE Rev. Professor Maurice
St. Ippolyts, February lotk and 21st, 18721
My dear Mr. Maurice — No congratulation which I have
received has given me so much happiness — ^forgive my adding,
so much humiliation — ^as yours. If I have been tardy in
thanking you for it, it has not been from forgetfiilness, for it
is the first which I have been able to acknowledge at all.
It is certainly a privilege to be asked to take work at Cam-
bridge just now. The place seems daily growing fuller of
interest and opportunity. I feel painfully how little able I am
to do what might be done, yet I cannot but be thankful to
have an oar put into my hand. The Master and fellows of
Emmanuel are most kind, and, I trust, public-spirited ; and I
believe it will be a real satisfaction to join in their work.
Leaving St Ippolyts after fifteen years involves some severe
wrenches; but the right course seems clear, and at least we
ourselves have learned much here that we could not have
learned in any other way.
Pray, pray put entirely away all such feelings as you men-
tion about your own Professorship. I have never had anything
but sincere delight as regards the University and as regards
yourself. In a very short time I learned to be equally thank-
ful at what happened for my own sake, and this satisfaction
has steadily increased. For many years I have read but little
philosophy, and that in a most desultory way, nor could I hope
to recover lost ground, so that I now feel it would be simply
an overpowering burden to me to have to represent philosophy
at Cambridge, where I trust it has a vigorous future before
it It is not a little singular that only two days before I re-
ceived the Bishop of Ely's invitation to become his Examining
Chaplain, when I had not the slightest expectation of being
called to any official work in theology, I had expressed to
Mrs. Hort the feeling which had been growing upon me that
it would be wrong for me to look forward to philosophy as a
main occupation, and right for me to accept theological study
as now clearly marked out for me as my chief employment ;
so that I was most thankful on my own account that the
I70 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vii
election of 1866 had diverted me from taking a mistaken
direction. The fact is, that the various circumstances of many
years have drawn me unawares more and more into theological
study of an engrossing kind, which could not be abandoned
without, humanly speaking, wasting my life. My chief anxiety
previously, apart from interest in philosophy, was to be able to
testify for theology from the non-theological camp. But, as
things are now going, it may be quite as useful to bear witness
for things not technically theological from the theological camp ;
and at all events this seems in some degree to lie ¥nthin my
power, while the other course does not Of course I am not
precluded from saying a word in matters of pure philosophy,
should it seem advisable to do so.
It has been a relief to me to say this to you. . . .
I cannot say with what delight we are looking forward to
being so near neighbours to you and Mrs. Maurice for our
own sake, and, if possible, still more for the sake of our
children.
. . . Mrs. Luard has just (February 21st) left us. We
were dismayed to hear how ill you had been, but trust the
crisis is now well over.
Mrs. Hort sends much love to Mrs. Maurice and yoursel£ —
Believe me, ever affectionately yoursf, F. J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
St. Ippolyts, March $rd, 1872.
My dear Ellerton — I take the first available moment just
to tell you how things stand about the University and the
towns.^ On Wednesday I had a word with Westcott, and told
him briefly about our conversation. He strongly seconded
the plan that you and Moorsom should come up to Cambridge
as early as practicable, but urged that at present the Univer-
sity has no sufficient evidence that the towns care about the
matter; petitions from two places where Stuart is known to
have been active not being by any means adequate for what is
wanted. On Thursday he told me that he had that morning
^ Viz. in the matter of University Extension.
AGB 43 LAST YEARS OF PARISH WORK 171
met at breakfast Roundell, Warren (son, I think, of Lord de
Tabley), and other academic Liberals, and had a very interest-
ing conversation with them, and found they would be delighted
if the University would take up the work. He said to them
what he had said to me, and they gladly undertook to set other
northern towns in motion if possible. He is more hopeful
than I had ventured to be about using non-resident fellowships
for this purpose. But then he contemplates the town lecturer-
ships as becoming permanent offices, like inspectorships of
schools. But he urges strongly that considerable local funds
will be essential. He is greatly interested in the matter, and
may be relied on to use whatever influence he has at Cam-
bridge on behalf of the towns.
This hint may be of use to you, if you have means of getting
at any other large towns, either personally or through the
Crewe people.
You will be grieved to hear that Maurice is in a most pre-
carious state. The accounts last night and yesterday morning
were decidedly better, thank God ; on Friday there had seemed
to be very little hope. — Ever affectionately yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
CHAPTER VIII
CAMBRIDGE: COLLEGE LECTURER
1 872- 1 878. Age 43-50.
The move to Cambridge was made in March 1872.
One of the great attractions of the change had been the
prospect of being a near neighbour to Professor Maurice,
who lived in St Peter's Terrace, where Hort had taken
a house. But the hope was sadly disappointed, as
Maurice died on April ist; he had left Cambridge for
the last time on the very day of Hort's arrival. He
attended the funeral in London, going from Sterling's
house, and on the following Sunday preached a
memorial sermon in St Edward's Church at Cambridge,
of which Maurice had been incumbent For some
time afterwards he was the active Cambridge secretary
of the Maurice Memorial Fund. Dr. Westcott had
now been settled about two years in Cambridge, and
resided only a few yards from Hort's door.
For the next six years Hort lectured to theological
students at Emmanuel College. The subjects of his
lectures in that period were Origen contra Celsum ; the
Epistle to the Ephesians ; Irenaeus, contra omnes haer-
eseSf book iii. ; the First Epistle to the Corinthians ; the
Epistle of St James ; Clement, Stromateis^ book vii. ;
and the Apocalypse, chaps, i.-iii.
CHAP. VIII CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 173
In 1 875, when Dr. Lightfoot became Lady Margaret
Professor, he rather reluctantly stood for the Hulsean
Professorship, when Dr. J. J. S. Perowne was elected ;
it is clear that, when he came to Cambridge, election
to a professorship was not part of his aim. The
Knightsbridge Professorship had fallen vacant again by
Maurice's death, but this time he did not stand. He
was well content to go on lecturing at the College which
had so wisely and generously adopted him, and to
which he very soon became strongly attached ; its
Master, Dr. Phear, who was largely responsible for his
election, became one of his intimate friends. Nor was
ecclesiastical preferment ever offered to him. He was
totally without worldly ambition, and only smiled when
his friends expressed a wish to see him in some more
conspicuous position. He honestly believed himself in-
capable of occupying the position of a leader, though
in other directions he was undoubtedly conscious of his
own powers. Besides his lectures and his own literary
work, College as well as University business began
presently to claim a great deal of attention. In these
early years he served on the following Syndicates and
similar bodies : General Board of Studies, Law and
History Tripos Syndicate, Natural Science Board,
Botanical Gardens Syndicate, Select Preachers Syndi-
cate, Geological Museum Syndicate, Historical Studies
Board, University Press Syndicate, Board of Theological
Studies, Local Lectures Syndicate, University Library
Syndicate, Election of Officers Syndicate, Teachers
Training Syndicate. He was also on the Councils
of the Philosophical and Philological Societies. The
variety of his interests and attainments made his help
valuable in many departments, and his conscientiousness
in attendance made him a most desirable assessor. In
174 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
order to secure a continuance of his services on the
Press Syndicate, the special clause which permits the
occasional re-election of a Syndic without the customary
interval was more than once used in his favour. Dr.
Henry Jackson, who met him frequently at such meet-
ings, speaks of the large number of " Syndicates and
boards which had the benefit of his judgment, his learn-
ing, and his generous and inspiring enthusiasm." ** Hort
is so refreshing," he remembers Henry Bradshaw saying,
as they came away together from a meeting of a board
on which Hort also was serving. Dr. Jackson thus
recalls the first occasion on which he was brought into
business relations with him ; an occasional Syndicate
had been appointed to consider the mode of election to
professorships and University offices. " I do not
remember," he says, " whether Hort signed the report
which recommended the establishment of small electoral
boards, such as were afterwards created b^ the statutes
of 1882 ; but I have never forgotten his vigorous and
characteristic argument in favour of the representation
of what he called ' intelligent ignorance.' No board, he
maintained, ought to consist wholly of experts, who
might conceivably bring to an election official preju-
dices not less mischievous than the unprofessional pre-
judices of the electoral roll. In each case there should
be, he thought, some persons interested in the subject
but not professionally engaged in it I remember
thinking that what he called ' intelligent interest ' was
after all not very unlike what most people would call
' knowledge,' and that accordingly his view was not far
removed from our own ; but we did not see how to
give definite shape to his principle. It seemed to me,
however, that his declaration bore fruit later ; for in
1883, when the electoral boards were constituted, care
VIII CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 175
was taken that in each case one or two representatives
of kindred studies should be associated with the special-
ists." In 1878 began a long series of College meetings
for the revision of statutes ; in the same year he was
also occupied with Arts Schools meetings for the revision
of University statutes, and became for the first time a
member of the Council of the Senate. Of his work on
the Council, Dr. Jackson writes as follows : " I picture
him to myself watching keenly the miscellaneous busi-
ness which came before us, and from time to time inter-
posing an acute and effective remark. His independ-
ence of judgment was conspicuous, and his zeal for
science and learning not less so. He had the ^ free
spirit ' which, according to Plato, characterises the true
lover of knowledge, and it made itself felt in our
debates." These meetings absorbed an enormous deal
of time and energy, especially in the case of so punc-
tilious a public servant, and left deplorably little leisure
for private work. Moreover, he was still Examining
Chaplain to the Bishop of Ely, and was in charge of
frequent examinations of ordination candidates at Ely
and, after Bishop Harold Browne's translation, at Win-
chester. However, the Greek Testament slowly pro-
gressed; in 1878 the first sketch of the Introduction
was re-written. Another effort was made to prepare
the Hulsean Lectures of 1871 for publication ; but,
after two of them had been re-written and printed off,
the rest were laid aside for a revision which they never
received.
In 1876 he brought out the one volume which,
with the exception of the Greek Testament Text and
Introduction, was all of his theological work that saw
the light in book form during his lifetime. The ' Two
Dissertations' (on 'Movoyevtj^ ©eo? in Scripture and
176 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
Tradition/ and on the ' Constantinopolitan and other
Eastern Creeds of the Fourth Century ') were not such
as to attract a wide circle of readers, but they are well
known to theological students, and afforded a tantalis-
ing sample of the kind of work which might be ex-
pected from their author in the way both of textual
criticism and of history of doctrine : " May the harvest,"
said Dr. Westcott, " be like the first-fruits." The first
Dissertation was an exercise for the degree of Bachelor,
the second for that of Doctor of Divinity, which degrees
he took in the year 1875.
The first essay is a criticism in seventy-two octavo
pages of the received reading of St. John i. 18^; the
second " grew out of a note appended to the first essay " ;
the following is the last paragraph of the Preface : —
Both Dissertations are of a critical nature, and directed
solely towards discovering the true facts of history respecting
certain ancient writings. On the other hand, I should hardly
have cared to spend so much time on the inquiry, had the
subject-matter itself been distasteful, or had I been able to
regard it as unimportant To any Christian of consistent be-
lief it cannot be indifferent what language St John employed
on a fundamental theme ; and no one who feels how much
larger the exhibition of truth perpetuated in Scripture is than
any propositions that have ever been deduced from it, can be
a party to refusing it the right of speaking words inconvenient,
if so it be, to the various traditional schools which claim to be
adequate representatives of its teaching. Nor again is it of
small moment to understand rightly the still living and ruling
doctrinal enunciations of the Ancient Church, which cannot
be rightly understood while their original purpose is misappre-
hended. Even the best theological literature of that age, as
of every age, contains much which cannot possibly be true,
* The * received* reading is yjovvyeif^ ui6s, 'only -begotten Son.'
Hort's essay went to prove that ftopoyev^s Beds, 'only-begotten God,' is
the true text.
VIII CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 177
and it is difficult to imagine how the study of Councils has
been found compatible with the theory which requires us
to find Conciliar utterances Divine. But the great Greek
Creeds of the fourth century, and the ' Constantinopolitan '
Creed most, will bear severe testing with all available resources
of judgment after these many ages of change. Assuredly they
do not contain all truth, even within the limits of subject by
which they were happily confined. But their guidance never
fails to be found trustworthy, and for us at least it is necessary.
Like other gifts of God's Providence, they can be turned to
deadly use, but to those who employ them rightly they are the
safeguard of a large and progressive faith.
This volume received a hearty welcome from men
so difTerent as J. H. Newman and the Master of Trinity
(Dr. W. H. Thompson) ; the latter wrote, " I look upon
the appearance of such dissertations as epoch-making
in the history of the Divinity School." Henry Brad-
shaw, in sending a copy of the book to a friend (Mr.
H. E. Ryle), wrote as follows : " I wish very much . . .
you would read these two Dissertations. The first will
give you perhaps a little new light as to what real
textual criticism of the New Testament is ; and the
second, what may be done by careful placing of docu-
ments side by side, and listening to what they say
when so placed. I thought they would both have been
too hard reading for me, but I have been most agreeably
disappointed." Dr. Scrivener, whose method of criti-
cism was widely different from Hort's, and who was
unable to accept the principles afterwards declared
in Westcott and Hort's Introduction^ said : " You pos-
sess a gift of elaborating from your own consciousness
theories which are never groundless, never visionary,
beyond any man I ever had the happiness to meet with."
To some, however, it appears that his name sug-
gested brilliance of divination without the sanity of
VOL. II N
178 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
judgment which Dr. Scrivener recognised, and which
was generally associated with his work as his methods
became better known. For instance, in 1877 a re-
viewer in the Academy conjectured that he must be the
author of an article in the Church Quarterly y which was
intended to show that the * Epistle to Diognetus ' is of
modern origin. His disclaimer was amusingly emphatic
{Academy y May 12th, 1877), «^nd he took the oppor-
tunity to call the article in question, ^ with all its industry
and ingenuity, an instructive and unsuspicious example
of that criticism which cannot see the wood for the
trees."
A welcome relief was afforded by the publication in
1877 of the first volume of the Dictionary of Christian
Biography. Hort's articles on the Gnostics had cost a
great deal of labour, and had indeed delayed the publi-
cation of the dictionary ; he was reluctantly unable to
continue them beyond the letter B. He wrote in all
over seventy articles, long and short, of which the most
elaborate were those on Bardaisan and Basilides.
Though unable to take further part directly in this
work, or in the Dictionary of Christian Antiquities which
followed it, he gave substantial help to other con-
tributors, such as Dr. Salmon and Dr. Cheetham.
Stress of work also compelled him to decline an invita-
tion to write a memoir of Whewell to accompany Mrs.
Stair Douglas' collection of his letters, and another
to become editor of a Critical fournal of Theology
which it was proposed to ask the Hibbert Trustees to
establish.
Before leaving St. Ippolyts he had undertaken the
editing of a volume of Memorials of Wharton Marriott^
an Eton master who died early, leaving some fragments
of theological works, the chief of which was a treatise
VIII CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 179
on the EucharisL The volume,^ which was published
in 1873, consisted of this treatise with some lectures
and sermons and a biographical sketch. Hort's work
in connexion with it was probably more than his
Preface would imply, though all that appears with his
name are a few footnotes, chiefly on the text of crucial
passages in the New Testament referred to in the
treatise on the Eucharist. In the explanatory Preface
he thus describes his share in the book : *^ My own
share in this book is altogether subordinate. The
privilege of contributing to memorials of Mr. Marriott
was not founded in my case on any personal acquaint-
ance, but simply on the need that the detailed results
of critical research should be looked over before print-
ing, and watched through the press, by some one
addicted to similar studies. Correction or extension of
Mr. Marriott's work was no part of my duty, and
accordingly, with a few specified exceptions, for which
there appeared to be sufficient reason, I have not gone
beyond a purely ministerial editorship." As already
suggested, these words should not be too literally
interpreted ; the ' ministerial ' editor in this case, as in
that of Mackenzie's Hulsean Essay, doubtless verified
every reference afresh.
Soon aft^r Hort's return to Cambridge, the University
Press published a Cambridge Prayer-book with pointed
Psalter ; the pointing was a matter of rather vigorous
debate, to which Hort contributed an elaborate investi-
gation of the technicalities of the question. Good
congregational chanting, always one of his ideals, was
the object of his suggestions. In this part of the
service, as in the hymns, he saw means of reinvigorating
1 Memorials of the late Wharton Booth Marriott, B,D,, F,S,A. John
Mitchell, London, 1873.
i8o FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
the congregational spirit which he found in the teach-
ing of the Epistle to the Ephesians, and in the revival
of which in worship and in work he saw the chief hope
for the Church of the future.
In public questions he took at Cambridge, as at St
Ippolyts, the liveliest interest, but little open part
He was present in 1 876 at the debate in the House of
Lords on Lord Salisbury's Oxford Bill. In 1878 he
was apparently responsible for the drafting of a petition
for the regulation of vivisection. His attitude towards
ecclesiastical controversies is well illustrated by his
contribution to the discussion over the Burials Bill in
1878. On February 22nd he wrote to the Times a
letter headed, * The Burial Question — an Eirenicon/ in
which he proposed, as a compromise, the permissive
use by Dissenters of a 'Bible Burial Service,' i.i, a
service consisting of the various passages of the Bible
which occur in the Burial Service of the Prayer-book ;
these would be the three introductory passages, Ps.
xxxix. (or xc), the long passage from i Cor. xv.,
Rev. xiv. 1 3, the Kyrie eleison^ the Lord's Prayer, and
St Paul's Benediction. No limitation need be made
as to the qualifications of the reader of such a service,
and of course members of the Church of England, as
well as those Nonconformists now entitled to it who so
desired, could still use the full service of the Prayer-
book. " The stoutest opponent," he wrote, " of fixed
forms of prayer or of a State liturgy could find no
reasonable principle of opposition to such a set of
words as the * Bible Burial Service,' drawn wholly from
the Bible, and owing their original selection to the
Church of England and to the State in a manner which
only a passionate love of stumbling-blocks could inter-
pret as doing violence to the traditions of Noncon-
VIII CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER i8i
formity." The letter further hinted at other advantages
to the practices of Christian burial which might proceed
from the adoption of this compromise, and concluded
with an earnest appeal to both parties : *^ These sug-
gestions are offered with a sincere desire to take full
account of the reasonable claims and natural feelings
on both sides ; if future strife is to be avoided, there
must be a willingness on all hands to be satisfied with
justice without the delights of a triumph. ... It would
be difficult just now to make peaceful proposals with
any hope of success, were it not that the proposed
means are provided by the English Bible, not now
for the first time a pledge of unity in the midst of
division."
This letter was discussed in the Guardian, in whose
pages he further defended his proposal. " Let no one,"
he said, ** be able to say with truth that the Church
heedlessly cast away the moral authority which still
holds multitudes outside her visible pale under its bene-
ficent spell." But his suggestion found little favour ;
partisanship ran so high that he despaired of a peaceful
solution. He made a last appeal in the Guardian of
April 3rd to "let the Church leave to others the
responsibility of refusing the way of mutual conciliation
and peace."
It was a rare thing for him to interpose in a con-
troversy ; here, as in the Elementary Education ques-
tion, his interference was due solely to a desire for
peace. In ecclesiastical politics men found it difficult
to class him ; in fact he could not be classed as belong-
ing to any definite party. His letters show, by many
scattered utterances, what affinities he had with both
the most prominent sections of the English Church,
yet how little either could claim him as an ally against
i82 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
the other. This being so, it is likely that not a few
put him down as a member of the * Broad ' Church ;
for this designation, however, both for himself and for
others, he had a great dislike. With the Church
policy of Dean Stanley he had little sympathy, though
for Stanley himself he had an ever-increasing affection.
He could not be satisfied with any current schemes of
comprehension or reunion, not because he did not
desire the ends which they had in view, but because the
means proposed seemed to him always to involve too
great sacrifices. He thought that such schemes were
over-hasty, and preferred to wait, regarding the present
divided state of Christendom as an anomaly, but as an
anomaly which was only ' episodical,' and which must
be borne with for a season. Meanwhile the cultivation
of a spirit of brotherhood, even if unaccompanied by
formal unity, was to him an object of the highest
importance, and his devotion to it was amply exem-
plified in his own practice.
Nor was his sympathy confined to men who pro-
fessed a positive creed. No man, whatever his own
profession of faith might be, could help feeling in
talking to Hort both the depth of his own convictions
and his freedom from all ecclesiastical prejudice. This
catholicity of sympathy was of great value in a place
of such manifold opinions as Cambridge. It was felt
that he not only sympathised with, but knew some-
thing about, a great variety of subjects, and could
really enter into the aims and understand the points
of view of men who pursued knowledge by widely
different paths, and whose thinking led them to widely
divergent opinions. All methods which seemed to
have vitality, were in his eyes precious. Apathy and
indifference to truth were far more distasteful to him
I
▼III CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 183
than opinions which he himself might think perverse
and wrong, but which were the outcome of sincere and
honest endeavour. This attitude of his mind towards
opinions with which he himself disagreed is strikingly
illustrated by some courageous sentences in the Intro-
duction to The Wayy the Truths the Life.
The easy belief, the easy disbelief, the easy acquiescence in
suspense between belief and disbelief which infect those
multitudes upon whom the burden of asking themselves
whether the faith of the Church is true or not true has been
laid, are manifestations of a single temper of mind which
ought to cause Christians more disquiet than the growing
force of well-weighed hostility. Owing to the deceptiveness
of words, credulity is popularly imputed to those only who
land themselves on the Christian side; though the same
impatient indolence of investigation, the same willingness to
choose and espouse or neglect evidence in obedience to
proclivities of outward association, may lead equally in differ-
ent temperaments and circumstances to any one of the three
positions. But it is from the credulity of Christians that the
Christian faith suffers most in days of debate ; and it is well
when any who might have helpfully maintained its cause
among their neighbours, had they not been disabled by too
facile acquiescence, are impelled to plunge into the deep
anew. There is not indeed and cannot be any security that
they will emerge on the Christian side: in human minds
truth does not always gain the present victory, even when it
is £uthfully pursued But whatever be the present result to
themselves or to others through them, it is not possible that
they or that any should fall out of the keeping of Him who
appointed the trial ; and to the Chiurch any partial loss that
may arise is outweighed by the gain from those whose faith
has come to rest on a firmer foundation. Truth cannot be
said to prevail where it is assented to on irrelevant or in-
sufficient grounds ; and the surest way to evoke its power is
to encourage the strenuous confronting of it with personal life
and knowledge.
i84 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
The intellectual recreations of Cambridge life were
a renewed delight to Hort on his return thither. He
still kept up his connection with the 'Apostles/ and
could now and then be induced to attend a meeting,
especially if Fitz -James Stephen was in Cambridge
and was to be of the party. He also r^^ularly went
to the meetings of a sort of senior * Apostles ' called
the ' Eranus/ a club composed of elder men of
various tastes and pursuits. At a meeting of the
'Eranus' held in Hort's rooms in 1877, Mr. A. J.
Balfour read a paper on ' Contradiction in the Auto-
matic Theory of Knowledge/ when there were present,
besides the host and the essayist, B. F. Westcott, J.
B. Lightfoot, H. Sidgwick, J. Clerk Maxwell, Coutts
Trotter, Henry Jackson, and V. H. Stanton. There
is extant a paper of Hort's probably written for the
* Eranus/ on * Uniformity ' (in the geological sense),
which contains some very interesting remarks on
Lyell's school, and suggest that the modern reaction
from the old theories of ' catastrophes ' has tended to
go too far in the ' uniformitarian ' direction. This
contention is supported by an appeal to Darwin's
arguments for the mutation of species — not a very
obvious quarter in which to look for an ally. Professor
Henry Sidgwick has kindly sent me the following
account of the origin of the club, and of my father's
part in its discussions : —
The club came into being, I think, in November 1872.
The originator of the idea was the present Bishop of Durham,
and he, together with Lightfoot and your father, may be re-
garded as constituting the original nucleus of the club It
was not however designed to have, nor has it from first to last
had, a preponderantly theological character ; on the contrary,
its fundamental idea was that it should contain representatives
viii CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 185
of difTerent departments of academic study, and afford them
r^ular opportunities for meeting and for an interchange of
ideas somewhat more serious and methodical than is suitable
at an ordinaiy social gathering. Accordingly the original
members included, among others, Clerk Maxwell, Seeley,
Jackson, and myself, as well as the three theologians whom
I have called the nucleus. The number of the club has
varied, but never exceeded twelve.
It met five or six times a year in the evening at the house
or rooms of one of its members. The host of the evening had
the duty of reading a paper as an introduction to conversation.
The range of subjects was entirely unrestricted ; the general
idea was that each member in turn would select a subject in
which he was specially interested, and would therefore probably
choose one belonging more or less to his own department of
study, only not of too technical a character to be interesting
to outsiders. But there was no obligation on him to choose
such a subject, if he preferred one of more completely general
interest, such as education, politics, the mutual duties of social
classes, etc. ; and, as a matter of fact, we have often discussed
subjects of this latter kind. I should add that the reading of
the paper was followed by conversation quite spontaneous and
unregulated, not anything like formal debate.
I have given this rather lengthy description of the club,
because I think you will agree with me that your father's
intellectual qualities and habits, his wide range of knowledge,
his almost youthful eagerness for truth, and vivid interest in ideas,
his transparent simplicity of nature, and unfailing cordiality, were
thoroughly adapted for meetings of the kind that I have de-
scribed. And in fact for many years it was only under extreme
pressure of work, or for imperative considerations of health,
that he ever missed a meeting. For some time he also took
his full share in the writing of papers ; but in the latter years
of his life he asked to be excused this duty, feeling his physical
energies barely adequate for the work he wished to accomplish
in his special department My memory therefore of his papers
is now too vague to be relied on ; but a very clear impression
remains with me of the part he took in the discussions. He
hardly ever spoke at much length ; he never, if I may so say,
i86 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
' hammered ' an argument ; he rarely showed any impulse to
dominate or lead the debate. I have known him indeed,
though not often, argue transiently with some vehemence;
but his vehemence was always combined with remarkable
gentleness; it expressed the eagerness of strong conviction,
not the eagerness of dialectical conflict. What he was most
inclined to do was in a sentence or two to bring into view
some aspect of the subject that had been overlooked, or per-
haps suggest a mode of reconciling a conflict of opinions that
had disclosed itself. When I speak of his gentleness, I do
not mean to imply that such utterances were never incisive ;
he had a way of pointing out an unwarrantable assumption, or
rejecting an inadequate solution of a problem by a single phrase,
or even a single pregnant word, which Remained in one's mind
when the rest of the debate &ded from memory. But he was
always interested in new ideas and new points of view, and
brightly receptive of them for the purpose of discussion,
whether disposed ultimately to adopt them or not
He also occasionally attended meetings of the Ray
Club, and thus kept up his connection with natural
science, and with its votaries. When in 1877 Charles
Darwin took an honorary degree at Cambridge, Hort
dined in the evening with the Philosophical Society, to
meet a distinguished gathering of scientific men, in-
cluding Huxley, Tyndall, Rae, Prof. Burdon Sanderson,
and Mr. Francis Galton. Another society in which he
was interested was the Church Society, at which he
with other senior men met younger members of the
University for the reading of papers and discussion.
The wide range of his intellectual sympathies had not
narrowed while he had been a country clergyman —
theology had become to him definitely his chief occupa-
tion, but philosophy and natural science still were as
fascinating as ever, while art and archaeology of various
kinds had an ever-growing charm. Thus he attended
Mr. Sidney Colvin^s lectures on Italian art, and at a
VIII CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 187
later time on Greek antiquities, and went on occasional
archaeological expeditions, such as to Wrexham and
Chester with the Cambridge Archaeolc^ical Society.
An extract from a sermon, preached by Dr. Mason
before the University of Oxford on the Sunday after
Hort's death, gives a not too highly coloured idea of the
position which he soon came to occupy with regard to
the various studies of the place; it refers of course
more particularly to a later time. Speaking of what
Cambridge found in " that unassuming, but most firm
and definite of scholars," the preacher said : —
The minute accuracy of his knowledge was not more
astonishing than the range of it. It is well known that many
Universities might have been proud to have him for a professor
of moral science, or of more than one natural science either.
Theology itself contains a whole family of various studies, and
of these it is difficult to say in which he was really greatest,
whether the textual criticism of the New Testament, which he
was the first to place upon a truly scientific footing, or the
exegesis of the sacred text itself, in which every word had been
to him an object of searching thought, or the doctrines
deduced from that exegesis, which he had traced historically in
their minutest developments, or the archaeology and literature
of the early Christian days, in which that history is to be
traced, fiamiliar to him in every detail, so that he could tell
you at once, with scarcely a reference to the book, about ob-
scure readings or difficult passages in any of the Fathers, or the
most modem literature in any language in which these various
branches of theological knowledge are investigated. . . . And,
though his keenly critical and scientific mind seemed to give
itself rather to analysis and the noting of facts than to the
synthetic marshalling of them into theories and philosophies,
yet no one was prepared with larger views of great questions,
or more sympathetic with great movements.
In the summers of most of these years, the air of
the high Alps was a necessity to him. Among his
iS8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
most successful perches were Zinal in the Val d'Anni-
viers, and the lonely Mattmark Inn in the upper
Saasthal, at both of which places he had the society of
his old climbing companion Lightfoot, though climbing
was unfortunately quite a thing of the past The
Saasthal had always been a favourite valley ; and
curiously enough it was here that he spent his last
visit to Switzerland in 1892; in that year he stayed at
Saas-F^e, the position of which he had admired in his
very first Alpine tour, and where he had often
marvelled that no hotel had been planted : when one
was opened in 1885, he was one of its earliest visitors.
Two domestic losses saddened an otherwise bright
period of life. In 1873 his father died at the age
of seventy-eight Two years later his youngest child,
named Alfred Stanley, died in infancy. He had
remaining two daughters and four sons, the last of
whom only was born at Cambridge. A temporary
addition to the family was made by his becoming the
guardian of the orphan son of Mrs. Hort's only brother :
this boy lived in the house till his school-days were
over. To his education, as to that of his own children,
he paid the most careful attention. His love for
children was great and wistful. He observed them
minutely, and was almost startlingly quick to note in
them indications of character. For infants he had a
quite unusual tenderness. In the case of his own
children he loved to prognosticate the future from their
earliest infancy, and in nothing was his ready divina-
tion of character better shown ; he exercised here the
same faculty which enabled him, in speaking of men,
to hit off their characteristics in a few phrases of racy
but sympathetic description. Averse as he was to
all forcing of the mental faculties, he acted on the
VIII CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 189
theory that education, properly understood, should begin
almost from the cradle. He exacted the habits of
unquestioning obedience and strict adherence to truth
in which he had himself been brought up. He wished
to share in and to know of all that was passing in the
nursery world, and to answer a question of one of his
children would put aside the most engrossing work.
Once he was really angry when he heard one of them
put off with, " Papa is busy now ; don't disturb him."
" Pray never say that again," he said ; " I am never
too busy for my children to come to me." He yearned
to be on the closest possible terms of intimacy with
them, but was bitterly conscious that a certain shyness
of his own hid him in part from them (see the
pathetic letter, p. 45 1) ; and, as in his extremely careful
training nothing could be passed over which called for
reproof, it was natural that they should become rather
afraid of him ; it was only as they grew up that they
could approach him with the full confidence which he
wished to invite, and which, so far as temperament
allowed, he did all that he could to secure. In holiday
times it was his delight to walk with them, to point
out the natural objects for which his own eye was so
keen, and to respond eagerly to any interest shown in
flower or fossil. Indoors he joined gladly in any quiet
game, and played it with all the conscientiousness of a
careful whist -player. In the evenings he frequently
set apart a time for reading aloud, and himself chose
the book with the most anxious care never to bore his
hearers, and yet to stimulate interests, especially in
subjects which lay outside the ordinary school-course :
the employment of his own leisure illustrated the value
of * hobbies.' His reading, in the home circle, as in
church, was a rare treat, as his children grew old
190 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
enough to appreciate it ; in reading poetry especially
he made the writer's words live, though he used no ^
gesture or other dramatic device, and he had a won- 't
derful command over the tones of a very musical
voice. [
To such of his children as were at school he wrote
regularly every fortnight ; to these letters all work gave
way, except in cases of absolute necessity ; however
weary or ill, he roused himself to the effort — so im- j
portant seemed to him the perpetual renewal at school
of home influence and affection. On important personal
occasions, such as a birthday, or a confirmation, the
letter was thought out as thoroughly as if it had been
an answer to an important question on some point of
theology. All conventionality was eschewed, and the
words were chosen to suit not only the occasion, but ^
the individual characteristics of each child. Birthday
presents, for which he always chose a book, were
selected with much thought and deliberation ; if he
was abroad at the time, he discussed the choice by
post. When he wrote to congratulate on a school
success, he let it be seen that the joy was his own, and
not merely the result of an effort to ' enter into ' the
prize-winner's feelings, while nothing could exceed his
tenderness and sympathy over a failure.
He was interested in everything which concerned
his family, even in its remotest branches. Through
circumstances he had little communication with most
of his very numerous Irish relations, but he had an
extraordinary knowledge of their affinities, and never
lost an opportunity of inviting or writing to even
distant cousins whom he rarely saw ; he had much of
the Irish feeling for family ties. When his eldest
daughter was paying a first visit to Dublin, he wrote
VIII CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 191
her a long and astonishingly vivid account of all the
relatives whom she was likely to come across, and of
all their belongings ; from this letter one could almost
guess that he was a professed student of genealogies.
The same anxious thoroughness was shown in his
management of all business affairs, whether his own or
those of relations who availed themselves of the help
of his clear and orderly mind. With no taste for such
subjects, he insisted on understanding himself clearly
every detail relating to investments and the like ; his
man of business speaks of his letters to him with
admiration.
In domestic life perhaps his most conspicuous
characteristic was his unselfishness. He would rush
forward to perform little social duties with an old-
fashioned courtesy which sometimes put younger mem-
bers of the household to shame. In travelling he
habitually chose the least comfortable place in a rail-
way carriage, and burdened himself with the heaviest
parcels. His freedom from all self-indulgence made
him thus an admirable travelling companion, while it
enabled him thoroughly to enjoy primitive resorts in
the Alps which most people avoided as deficient in
comfort One year he stayed a fortnight on the top of
the Stelvio Pass ; a friend expressed surprise that he
and his wife could linger at such a place : " Oh, but,"
he said, in perfect simplicity, " we have found fourteen
new plants." The remark illustrates also the boyish
joyousness of his life, and the freshness which never
quite deserted him, even though it was overcome at
times by periods of physical and mental depression^
The fact must not be forgotten in the review of what
was in many respects a pathetic career. He was
sensitive, perhaps hyper-sensitive, in body and mind.
192 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
and liable at times to great distress, the result no doubt
of overstrain, particularly in his early Cambridge days.
But he never lost his Irish love of merriment I have
seen him quite overcome by a successful parody or a
picture in Punchy and his laugh came never du bout des
dents. His work demanded that many hours of each
day should be passed in his study alone, but he was
never solitary by choice, and never oblivious of what
was passing. He was vexed if he did not know at
once of all comings and goings in his family.
Outside his own home he was shy, but it was not
difficult to overcome his shyness. He did not * wear
his heart on his sleeve ' ; as one of his friends said,
" you will only by degrees learn the depths that lie in
that great heart of his." His frequent reticence in
conversation was due to a deep sense of the responsibility
of speech. Thus before his children he would seldom
speak freely on important subjects, for fear of creating
a wrong impression of things into which they could
not fully enter. For a somewhat similar reason it was
difficult even for intimate friends to ' draw * him on vital
topics. He could talk freely enough when no fear of
consequences withheld him, and his verdicts had sel-
dom the character of obiter dicta. But most often he
caused disappointment, because he would not incur the
responsibility of throwing half-lights, where he did not
feel that his judgment was sufficiently matured. He
would not give others the benefit of his thoughts while
they were still in process of formation. But though he
would not utter oracles, he often distressed those who
consulted him by the amount of labour which he took
upon himself in their behalf Much of his work can
only be traced, as some one has said, in the ' little-read
prefaces' of obscure books. The interruptions thus
AGE 44 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 193
caused to his own studies were very serious. Masses
of his own work lay about him calling for attention,
while he cheerfully toiled hour after hour to discharge
" the unowed debt to others paid."
To THE Rev. W. F. Moulton
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
April 2nd, 1872.
. . . This is a heavy day with us. We heard this morning
of the death of our very dear friend Mr. Maurice. Almost
the brightest hope for our life at Cambridge was the prospect
of having him for a near neighbour ; three doors off. But it
seems selfish to dwell on these thoughts in the presence of
the great public loss. — Believe me, always truly yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To THE Rev. Johi^t Ellerton
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
May 2%tk, 1872.
My dear Ellerton — Your note just come. I very much
fear you are too late for this term. Westcott, who is at once
the most intelligently enthusiastic friend of the move ^ (at all
events next to Stuart), and the most influential, goes down to
Peterborough on Friday for three months. Lightfoot is already
in London. I have seen incredibly little of any one this term,
and am very much in the dark about people's notions ; but I
am convinced that the matter would be vigorously taken up
if presented in a practicable shape. There are, as far as I
know, two obstacles (literally obstacles, not more) in the way :
first, that, as I wrote to you, there is or was not sufficient
evidence of a desire for the scheme on the part of a consider-
able range of towns, uninspired by Stuart, to justify the Uni-
versity in stepping forward ; second, that there is no evidence
of a disposition to bear the necessary expenses on the spot.
To the best of my belief, the answer of the Council was not in
^ The movement for University Extension. See p. 170.
VOL. II 0
194 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
the least intended as a snub, but as a hint that thus far, if the
terms of the memorials may be trusted, the University is
apparently expected to find men and money too, and that this
is simply an impossibility. The memorials are signed by men
who coidd doubtless give away the whole revenue of a Cambridge
College without being conscious of any loss ; and yet they
come to us without the slightest intimation that they are
willing to give a farthing towards the unavoidable expense.
Doubtless there is an absurdly exaggerated impression
abroad about Cambridge wealth. Not many outsiders know
that the University is miserably poor, and that few of the
Colleges are in any sense rich relatively to their work. Most
of the more intelligent residents would gladly do what they
can to make the University as widely useful as possible. But
it would be insanity to enfeeble the centre for the sake of the
circumference ; and we shall want all our endowments for the
central needs of Cambridge itself, which are daily becoming
more apparent, and demanding, as they will obtain, a thorough
organization of our means for learning, teaching, and examin-
ing. The whole fellowship system will be overhauled in the
next year or two. Prize fellowships (to which, in principle at
least, I personally should be inclined to show no mercy) will
doubtless be cut down to short terminable annuities, and thus
separated from real fellowships held on the condition of doing
recognized work. Now what the University is likely to do for
the towns, I imagine, is to sanction lectures in towns as
University work qualifying for proper fellowships, and of course
to supply the help and regulation of a Syndicate. I am con-
fident there will be a general desire to consider any proposal
fairly and fully, and to do anything that really lies in the
power of the University. There is singularly little obstruct-
iveness or exclusiveness ; though the old Cambridge horror of
unreality is very strong. The University is not, I think, as
yet roused; but it is not indifferent . . .
I spoke to Atkinson, the Master of Clare, an admirable
and leading member of the Council. He confirms entirely
what I have been saying about the real meaning of the
answer. He especially urged that the enumeration of past
efforts of Cambridge for the diffusion of education were
AGE 44 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 195
meant distinctly to be cited as assurances of the University's
continued desire — ^not as excuses for doing nothing more.
But he mentions that a reply has been received from Bir-
mingham which amounts to a change of front, and which
suggests that there at least the wish was for money. They
now say they do not care so much for lectures as for examina-
tions ; they want the University to have local examinations for
young men as well as for boys, just as they have examinations
for women as well as for school-girls.
The matter being urgent, I thought it better to attack
Westcott at his rooms, though I had been a long time with
him this morning before your note came. He had a very
different &ct to announce. He had had a long talk with
Stuart, who was delighted with the Council answer, and has
been expounding it to a great meeting at Darlington, where
140 workmen's institutions were represented. They all agreed
to place their rooms, etc, at the disposal of any body deputed
by Cambridge; and apparently entirely accepted Stuart's
doctrine that it was not for the University to supply money
out of old funds, but to call forth the creation of new funds.
He had not heard of the Birmingham answer, and felt, as
I had done, that it is unpropitious ; the primary duties of
the University being to * teach, guide, and organize'; using
examinations, if necessary, for this purpose, but only as sub-
sidiary. It is therefore much to be desired that other places
should stick to their request for teachers^ if they are still so
mmded.
To HIS Wife
Hotel de la Poste, Amsteg, August 20M, 1872.
. . . The rest of the voyage on the lake [Lucerne] was
inexpressibly delightful and refreshing. I had a glimpse of
the new railway up the Rigi from Viznau ; but no train was
going up till later. The sun was hot ; but now and then the
breeze was almost too cold on the lake. One seemed to be
drawing in fresh life at every pore.
At Amsteg I strolled across the two bridges on to about
196 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
the place where the Saxifraga Cotyledon grew \ but, the moon
not being well up, I could not see it But, what was more
to the purpose, I could see the huge bulk of the mountains
(Bristenstock, Windgalle, etc.) melting ever so high up into
partly cloud partly darkness ; and I could both see and hear
the Reuss below. That one little stroll was enough to assure
me that, as far as I am myself concerned, I have done wisely
in coming out. The Karstelenbach (out of the Maderaner-
thal) is rushing noisily past my bedroom window to join the
Reuss, carrying with it a cool current; but I think I shall
sleep all the sounder, only I feel as if I had no right to be
having such enjoyment just now.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. John's Mount, Brecon, S. Wales,
September 2%thy 1872.
... I had not heard of your going to Leeds, ancj do
not see your name in the list of authors of papers as given
in the Daily News, What is your subject, and for how
long do you go? I could wish that you and Lightfoot
would go instead to Bonn, to have a talk with Langen
and the other Old Catholic Professors there. They ought
to receive some truer impressions of the English Church
. . . and one would like Cambridge to be more than a name
to them.
I have tried in vain here to write the missing parts of the
third and fourth Hulseans, and with not much more success
to analyze part of the first I suppose I must try again
presently, but two or three months of perfect idleness seem to
be required as a preliminary condition ; and this is a reducHo
ad absurdum.
To the Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. John's Mount, Brecon, S. Wales,
January ^hy 1873.
My dear Westcott — All best wishes to you and all yours.
The new year seems to grow from more to more for us alL
AGE 44 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 197
I trust you had as happy a time at Peterborough as we had
at Ely. Stanton's presence alone would have been enough to
mark the time ; but there were other interesting men, in one
way or another almost all Two at least of the Bishop's
Friday addresses or sermons in the Cathedral were to be
remembered. I had almost dreaded the gloom of this wet
December for the Cathedral itself after the glory of last June,
but I think it was even more impressive at times. At all
events I am thankful to have the two types of a summer and
a winter ordination. The Wednesday evening service at St.
Mary's was also memorable in spite of the absence of some
representative men. The body of the church was full, or
nearly so, and we had addresses fh>m Dr. Guillemard, Martin,
Luckock, and Leeke, with intervals of silent prayer with low
sounding of the organ. It was an event to listen to Leeke —
I had never seen his face before — and we yielded to his spell
almost at the first words, and fell under it more and more.
Assuredly the springs of life are strangely breaking forth
anew.
To THE Rev. John Ellbrton
St. John's Mount, Brecon, Matxh 19M, 1873.
My dear Ellerton — Our anxieties of the last eight months
reached their close yesterday. My dear father departed from
among us soon after nooa It has been an illness, or rather
break-up, of ever-varying change, the natural strength resisting
decay with marvellous tenacity. Happily there has been
hardly any suffering, though much protracted weariness. But
all has been endured with unfailing tenderness and patient
strength of will. . . . He died an hour and a half after the
March session of Revision began ; and strange to say, he had
long been haunted by the fear that his death would take place
in Revision week, when he fancied we should not be able to
be present ; and not long ago he said his burial would be on
the Saturday of a Revision week. All is very strange, and
even more desolate than I expected.
198 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vin
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
St. John's Mount [Brecon], March 19M, 1873.
. . . The time since we arrived had been spent in awaiting
the slowly approaching end. There were only faint gleams
of consciousness, with much sad weariness, but apparently no
suffering till soon after noon yesterday. Then a short spasm
alarmed the nurse. Before we could reach the room, it
was over, and then for a few peaceful minutes the breath
ebbed away. The silence of that time, as of nearly all the
previous time, seemed to suit best the strong steadfast
patience and reticent tenderness of the life. We hope to
lay him beside my mother in the little churchyard of Bettws
Penpont on Saturday afternoon, I suppose about three
o'clock.
It is a very oppressive time, this dose of outward child-
hood.
To HIS Children
St. John's Mount, Brecon, March 19M, 1873.
My darling Children — Mamma wrote to you yesterday to
tell you the sad sad news that dear Grandpapa is dead.
Eight months have passed since he was taken ill; and it
would have been nothing strange if he had died on any day of
that long time ; so that the news cannot be a surprise to any
of us. Nor ought we to grieve for his sake \ on Saturday
next, when we hope to lay his body in the same grave as dear
Grandmamma's in Penpont churchyard, we shall be led to give
God hearty thanks for delivering him from this world \ and no
one who has seen him of late could doubt that it has been indeed
a deliverance. Much more must we rejoice for him that he
has passed into a better world and a nearer presence of God.
Yet it is not wrong for us to be sad too, as indeed we cannot
help being when we remember our loss.
Sad I am sure you are. . . . There is therefore no need
for me to tell you to be sad just now ; but I do want to put
before you some serious thoughts for which you are not at all
AGE 44 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 199
too young, and which may help to make all your coming years
better, and therefore both brighter and graver.
One thought I must mention which concerns myself.
Many children look forward hopefully to the time when they
will be their own masters, without any one over them. Well,
let me tell you this. I have been a grown man for many
years, for more than half my life ; yet to me now one of the
bitterest pangs is the feeling that I have no longer any one
above me in my own family to look up to, and that I am now
its oldest and highest member. I can hardly expect you now
to understand quite what I mean, but if you keep this letter,
and sometimes look at it in after years, perhaps you will
understand better. Then you will know that one great blessing
of our being children of the Heavenly Father is that it keeps
us in childhood all our life long.
During these last two days my thoughts have been travelling
backwards a good deal, and travelling forwards too. I never
had the happiness of knowing a Grandpapa as you have been
able to do. My Grandpapa Hort died many years before I
was bom. I was about ten when my Grandpapa Collett died;
but I had very little opportunity of knowing him, as he lived
in Suffolk and we lived in Ireland. I remember a little of a
visit which we made to him at Heveningham when I was five
years old or less, and a little more of a visit which he made to
us at Leopardstown when I was rather older. But that was
quite a different thing from what your recollections of your
Grandpapa will be. And it is of him^ my own Father, as I
knew him in those far distant years, that I have been thinking
now. I have been recalling how I used to sit on his knee,
and then how I used to stand by his chair, or walk by his
side, and ask him questions. Every hour I feel more strongly
how much I owe, in that which is of the best and most lasting
worth, to him and to my Mother, your Grandmamma, and to
the strict and tender watchfulness with which they brought
me up.
And again my thoughts have been travelling forward to
another time, — God alone knows whether near or distant, —
when perhaps you all, in health and strength, may be standing
round my bed, and watching the last remains of strength
200 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
failing and the last breath being breathed away, and at last
when you too will be fatherless, as I am now. I do not at all
wish your minds to dwell on this thought ; but I could not
forbear just bringing it before you at this solemn time. God
grant that, when that other time shall come, and I have to
render up my account to Him, the just Judge of all, concern-
ing you as concerning everything which he has committed to
me, I may be able to look back on having trained and
governed you with anything like the wise and careful nurture
which I received in my own childhood
Now another word about dear Grandpapa himself. The
points in his character which seem to me to stand out above
the rest, as I look back over more than forty years, are, I
think, his simplicity, his strong patience, and his unselfishness.
He thought little about himself^ and still less did he talk about
himself. He had no small restless vanities. He never craved
to be admired ; he did not even crave to be appreciated. He
had no regular profession in life ; but that did not make him
idle or self-indulgent All his life long, as I remember it, he
worked hard in his own way without expecting or wishing any
reward, partly at public business, partly in charitable and such
like institutions, partly in long and anxious private business as
a kindness to relations who trusted his faithful justice and
affection. All this he did quite quietly and as a matter of
course, as the plain duty and honour of a Christian man and
a gentleman, without taking any credit for it Throughout
this trying illness, just as in the years of health, no word, no
gesture, of murmuring or impatience escaped from him
towards God or man; and he was ever thankful for the
slightest benefit or kindness. His love you have often seen
and felt for yourselves ; it was the trustworthy love of a just
and stedfast and self-restraining heart.
Now I have said enough for you to think about I am so
glad you were here with us at Christmas. It may have seemed
to you rather a dull time then; but you will cherish the
recollection of it as you grow older. Dear Mamma (now
more dear than ever to me, and I think to you too) and I
have just been laying the primrose and violet of your gathering
on Grandpapa's feet as he lies stretched in his coffin clothed
AGE 45 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 201
in pure white. You, dear little ones, will think of him and of
us early on Saturday afternoon. God be with you always. —
Your affectionate father, F. J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambkidgjl, January 2ttd, 1874.
. . . The Winchester examination was both encouraging and
depressing. With a very few exceptions the material seemed
admirable ; there were few of the forty-five conversations called
' tn'va voce in Greek Testament ' which I did not much enjoy.
But the mental outfit was as a rule woeful. A very small
proportion had bestowed any pains on preparation, the want
of ordinary school knowledge of the Bible was lamentable;
but above all there was the most woeful absence of even the
semblance of theological thought. It will I think be found
necessary to draw up a little homily to be printed and sent to
candidates on their first application, expounding in an
elementary way why they must read, think, and be examined.
Some had apparently never opened a book on any theological
subject till a few weeks before Ordination.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, ya»fMif7 7M, 1874.
... I trust Mill's Life will induce you to read some of his
books. He cannot be justly judged otherwise. But you
are certainly right [as to] the total effect of the life. To
Unitarianism at least it is a severe blow.
To HIS Wife
Cambridge, Ash Wednesday^ February 18M, 1874.
The Eranus business is over, and fairly well too. I
managed to write tolerably freely, and without much interrup-
tion, yesterday afternoon, and so I finished by a quarter past
202 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
8 ! a close shave. I had not time to look over or correct.
The whole thing was crude and shapeless, and did not half
express what I wanted. But it did not break down, and had
the effect after a little while of giving rise to a vigorous and
interesting talk. Everybody was there except three (Cowell,
Marshall, and Foster), and the arrangements as to rooms, etc,
did well enough, though the lamps got dim the last half-hour.
We did not break up till half-past 1 1.
I have been to the University Litany at St Mary's (read
by the Proctors and Vice-Chancellor), and enjoyed it greatly ;
more, I think, than I ever enjoyed an Ash Wednesday service
before. The Litany did gain so much by being set free from
the Commination.
To THE Rev. J. Powell Metcalfe
(On a proposed new Cambridge Pxayer-book, with Pointed Psalter)
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
April 14/^, 1874.
My dear Sir — Your letter has just reached me at home.
Many thanks for it. I cannot say that you have convinced
me ; but it is a great satisfaction to me to And that in principle
we can hardly be said to differ.
I entirely believe that " the best chanting is that which is
nearest good reading " ; the problem is merely to find the best
mechanism for arriving at that result
We shall of course agree in thinking that the fundamental
error of vulgar chanting, so far as it depends on the teacher,
is a misconception of the nature of the cadence (including
under the name both the mediation and the cadence proper),
an assumption that it is a tune minus the first bar, instead of
being only the inflected ending of a recitation ; and in recog-
nising that this error has been much encouraged by the ocular
appearance of a chant in ordinary musical type, with the recit-
ing note represented by a semibreve. If therefore the errors
of chanting depended only on wrong theory (conscious or un-
conscious), I should feel with you that the time might be
approaching (at some distance still, I should fear) when we
AGE 45 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 203
might dispense with precautions rendered necessary on this
account But it seems to me that the singer is always liable
to be led astray by peculiarities inherent in the structure of the
chant and therefore permanent, and that in proportion to his
want of knowledge and training. Do what we may, we cannot
get rid of the duality of the chant ; it must have a part in
monotone, and a part inflected. The untrained impulse
will always be (i) to sing these two parts in different rhythm,
and (2) to make a heavy pause between them. According to
my view the real office of the preliminary accent is not so
much to add another bar or pair of beats to the cadence
(which might be only shifting the evil a step further back), as
to ease the abruptness of the transition from the monotone to
the cadence. It may be described either as giving a pre-
monitory signal to prepare for gradual transition, or as breaking
the transition into two stages; except of course where the
first syllable of the cadence is immediately preceded by a
strong syllable ; and even these cases profit, I think, by the
habit of equability acquired through their neighbours. In all
stages of chanting short of perfection the impulse is to make
a pause immediately before the cadence ; the marked accent
guides the pause to a syllable that by intrinsic weight is able
to bear it without injury to sense. It asserts no supremacy
over previous strong syllables, but interposes in the one
dangerous place to prevent any naturally weak syllable (or
syllables) from being made artificially strong. Thus, if I am
right, the accent is the great safeguard of sense against the
incidental consequences of an inevitably rigid notation ; and,
while a helpful protection to even the best choirs, is an indis-
pensable monitor to the ordinary congregation, and to all
intermediate capacities. A time may come when we may be
able to get rid of all notation ; but I find high authority sup-
ports my impression that, if we are to drop one of our two
leading-strings, a congregation would go less astray with the
accent and no cadence-marks than with cadence-marks (whether
bars or distinctive initial letters) and no accent.
The frequent difficulty of choosing the syllable for the
accent is, to my mind, an argument for its necessity. If an
editor, with time before him as well as knowledge, is be-
204 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vin
wildered, how much more a singer. If equally competent
editors would place the accent differently, then it cannot
matter very much whose view is adopted in each case. But
it does matter considerably whether there is discrepance of
practice, and it is just in these cases that discrepance would
most arise. Within a single congregation the evil might be
checked to a certain extent by assiduous care ; but by this
very means it would become all the more obtrusive at any
larger gathering, unless the teachers previously agreed on a
common standard ; and if they are to do this, is it not better
to furnish at once a common standard for all in the prayer-
book?
Agreeing therefore cordially with you that it is not for the
University to mark emphasis in the common sense of the
word, e^, such as is expressed by Elve/s different forms of
t3rpe, I must hold that the preliminary * accent' stands on
different ground, and is an essential part of the mechanism
required for guiding singers into good chanting. Chanting is
spreading rapidly every day ; but in a vast majority of cases
it must be in the hands of imperfectly accomplished teachers,
who need guidance themselves. But if chanting is to become,
as it ought to be, thoroughly congregational, I feel sure we
must above all provide correctives of instinctive errors for the
benefit of the many who will never have any direct instruction.
You will, I am sure, forgive my writing thus freely. It will
at least show how warm an interest I take in the proposed
Prayer-book. I ought, perhaps, also to mention that whatever
other evidence of choirmasters and choral secretaries I have
hitherto received (my time is unfortunately much taken up
just now) has been strongly in favour of the accent — Believe
me, sincerely yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To Mr. F. Seebohm
Cambridge, y^fitf 15M, 1874.
My dear Seebohm — Thanks many for your letter. I
quite feel with you that the historical problem is more 1
fundamental than the literary, so far as it is possible to
separate them ; and that the first thing to be done is to use
AGE 46 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 205
the literature as mere materials for arriving at the facts. If
the result is to make it appear that the facts are of the
ordinary human kind only, or that they cannot be ascertained
at all, there is an end of the matter, and the literature ceases
to be of interest except as a field of curious psychology.
But if the facts are ascertained to be anything like what
ordinary Christians believe them to be, then both the language
of our Lord and the Apostles, and the questions raised by
the acceptance of the New Testament facts as superhuman,
send us back to the books of the Bible, to see whether they
are not, though in a subsidiary and possibly indeterminate
manner, themselves part of the revelation ; and so the
inquiries about date, authorship, acceptance in early times
by individuals or communities, etc, refuse to be ignored. I
confess I do not see how theologians have a different interest
in this matter from ordinary Christians.
A theologian as such seems to me only a better instructed
and more rational Christian, one better enabled to verify at
first hand and seize with comparative clearness a considerable
number of the points, which one who is not in the usual sense
a theologian is obliged either to take on trust from others or
to hold in a confused way.
But happily there can be no sharp line of demarcation.
Personal experience is even more necessary for a theologian
than for others, and every form of intelligent Christianity
involves a knowledge which must be in its measure theological.
The primary facts remain the essential things; but the
simplest susceptibility to their influence implies some sort of
interpretation of them. Excuse all this — I value so much
what you have said that it seemed worth while to suggest
what seems to me the natural supplement — ^Very truly yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
CoLWYN Bay, August Zth^ 1874.
I much wish you could have met Lagarde. He was
specially pleasant and intelligent, and his tone generally
excellent
I
206 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
CoLWYN Bay, September *jth^ 1874.
. . . You do not say whether it is the politics of the
Council or what other reason that makes a clergyman not to
be had for } It is certainly a serious calamity, though
in the long-run it will, I suspect, have some compensations.
The great thing is to have the standard set by clerical head-
masters. . . . Self-assertion is under all circumstances an evil
and a source of weakness ; but is it not often compatible with
some of the most efficient types of character, — a crudity
which can be and often is corrected, not a fundamental and
sordid defect, such as belongs to characters which escape
friction and do not offend taste? The proportion of the
evil in any given case is of course a distinct matter.
To THE Rev. Dr, Westcott
Cambridge, Michaelmas Day, 1874*
... I have at last got Supernatural Religion (ed. 2nd),
but have not read much. The captious tone is very depressing ;
but it is so obtrusive as to detract, one hopes, from the mis-
chievousness of the book.
To HIS Wife
Sbrle's House, Winchester, December 20M, 1874.
Ordination is now over, and all (with the exception of one
painful case of rejection) has gone well. It has been an
interesting and pleasant time ; though as usual it leaves many
regrets as to opportunities that, partly from shyness but still
more perhaps from want of time, I have not been able to
seize.
We had at last thirty-six candidates. Bishop Macdougall
was to have preached, but was laid up with bronchitis. The
Bishop of Winchester was inclined to think he must take his
place, though utterly unfit for it; but I persuaded him to
^ ue, as headmaster for an important schooL
AGE 47 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 207
ask Dr. Ridding, which answered very well. This afternoon
I have had a walk with Dr. Ridding to the top of far-famed
* Hills,' a most breezy place ; and I have been very glad of
the opportunity of getting to know him. I went afterwards
to his house for a cup of tea, and then to the half-past five
service for the school in the Cathedral (the chapel being in
Butterfield's hands), which of course was interesting. But the
place where I was was very draughty and cold.
I forgot to mention that our days here have certainly been
on the whole a success.
To HIS Wife
Winchester House, May zoth^ 1875.
Think of my going with Gray yesterday afternoon to hear
' Moody and Sankey ' at the Haymarket. I am very glad to
have been, but should not care to go again. All was much as
I expected, except that the music was inferior, and altogether
Sankey did not leave a favourable impression. Moody has
great sincerity, earnestness, and good sense, with some
American humour which he mostly keeps under restraint, but
in matter is quite conventional and commonplace. Much
the most remarkable thing is the congregation or rather
audience.
To THE Rev. Chancellor Benson
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
JuM iiM, 1875.
. . . Our greatest want is of theologians^ (not quite in
the chicken state)' who have both read and thought, and mean
to go on doing both ; who prize and revere what has been
received, yet know that its transformation for fresh needs
under fresh light is often the first duty ; and who can give
full allegiance to the Church and to the University together,
with faith in large and unseen destinies for both. We have
here excellent materials and excellent intentions in abundance,
but we are sadly poor in guides.
1 The object of this letter was to induce Mr. Benson, then Chancellor
of Lincoln, to stand for the Hulsean Professorship of Divinity.
2o8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
To HIS Wife
Jerusalem Ch AMBER, /ffif^ iStA, 1875.
11.30 A.M.
Your letter tells me all that I know yet about the election/
except the bare fact first of its postponement and then of the
result. Of course one feels a little flat ; but it is not difficult
to believe that all is well, for various reasons. At least I shall
be more free in my * Hulseans,' which I shall now be doubly
anxious to finish.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, y«M^ 19M, 1875.
... It is a great satisfaction that you still think I did right
to send in my name. I have been having no doubt about it
myself; indeed am most thankful that I have not to reproach
myself with evading the responsibility of making the attempt.
Had you not steadily declined to let me think that it would
be a relief to you if I abstained, I should certainly have taken
no step. But I was not quite sure whether you continued
entirely in the same mind, and so am relieved to find that you
have not changed.
Personally I am satisfied with the result. Succession to a
Professorship formed no part, at all events no appreciable part,
in the mental prospect with which I came here. It is only
comparatively lately that I have been led to think of it, and
that with very mixed feelings; so that I return easily and
naturally to the old state of things, without further disappoint-
ment than the half physical discomfort of having failed. It is
a true relief to escape what might easily have become a tempta-
tion to temporize. It will be an additional stimulus towards
trying to do something independently, which is, I fear, for me
the most natural position.
You speak about future vacancies, and perhaps rightly. If
the occasion should arise, it might be best that I should stand ;
and if so, I suppose it would have been creating a relative
* See p. 173.
AGE 47 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 209
disqualification to abstain now. But this view of the matter
has hardly entered into my thoughts. ... It would worry and
hamper me beyond measure to have an imaginary candidature
in view, be it probable or improbable. When I stood for the
Knightsbridge chair in 1866 and failed, the manner of £ulure
gave me greater joy than almost anything for many years has
done. When it became vacant again in 1872, and it seemed
almost as though I could have it for the asking, I had come
to feel that to accept it would mean wasting my life in useless
weariness. Naturally the omen comes into view now ; and I
cannot be sorry that it does, for it helps to banish the oppres-
sion of the last few weeks.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
53 Hans Place, /m^ 2ij/, 1875. 2.45 a.m.
My dear Ellen — This is a sad letter indeed for me to
write and for you to receive. . . . The loving Father in
heaven, who allowed us to have the blessings of His little
child for a few months, has called him back to Himself in His
own mysterious love, and we must learn to thank Him. To
ourselves it should be a strange and powerful blessing to
know that we have one of our own number behind the
veil.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
53 Hans Place, /m^ 21st, 1875. 4.30 a.m.
My dear Westcott — ^We have been having fresh anxieties
for three or four days, but yesterday morning a better report
enabled me to go to Cambridge for the aftemooa Before I
returned, worse symptoms had set in, and at a little before 2
the peaceful end came. Hitherto we have lost no child, and
all is very strange. To our sight the little creature's promise
had been wondrously great ; all ages at once seemed to look
through those eyes.
We hope to lay the body to rest at Cambridge, and shall
try to reach home to-night
VOL. II P
2IO FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Cambridge, August isf, 1875.
... I am also finishing for the press my dissertation for the
B.D. degree which I took in the spring. For years Westcott had
been urging me to do this, and though personally I preferred
immeasurably to remain a common M.A., I could not gainsay
his arguments in favour of trying to restore the Divinity Faculty,
and therefore of claiming one's place as a professed student
of Divinity. The essay is *on fu>voy€vris ^cos in Scripture
and tradition,' and has been greatly enlarged and laden with
appended notes. The last of these has grown into what
will now, I suspect, become a second dissertation for a
Doctor's degree, on the * Constantinopolitan * Creed, and
some others of the same class. It is, I find, no otherwise
' Nicene ' than as containing a single Nicene piece in the
middle. It is really the local Creed of Jerusalem, revised
and enlarged somewhere about 363-374, I have no doubt
entirely for Jerusalem or at least Palestinian use. We have
three other Creeds (and the greater part of a fourth) owing
their present shape to similar revisions about, I believe, the
same time; and the circumstances belong to an interesting
chapter of Church History. Of the five ours is decidedly
the best, and its true parentage is quite as glorious as that
assigned to it by tradition, and far better fitted for sending it
forth to its present use.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Top of Piz Languard (10,71 5 /r^/ adove the sea),
NEAR PoNTRESiNA, September 6th, 1875.
My dear Ellen — I have been wanting for some time to
write to you, but there has been really little to tell you that
you would care to hear about To-day, however, I am doing
the nearest approach to an expedition which will be possible
this year. I am writing now on the top of Piz Languard, the
chief peak accessible from Pontresina, without counting the
AGE 47 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 211
great snow mountains. It is a sharp rocky point, rising out
of the range behind Fontresina, the top being 4800 feet
above the village, that is, above 1200 feet higher above the
village than Snowdon is above the sea. . . . Since I have
been here the clouds have much increased all round the
horizon, and they have also had a way of getting between
Piz Languard and the sun, which makes it a little chilly ; but
luckily there is no wind. The want of sunshine is much
worse for a gentleman with a great big black-bulb thermo-
meter, with which he wanted to find the heat of the sun's
rays on the mountain top at noon. It has so happened that
my Italian friends and I were the first people up here to-day,
though several parties have come up since, and a constant
rattle and chatter of lunch is going on close to me. I shall
not, however, wait much longer, being pretty well rested, and
not wanting to get chilled. But there are few pleasures like
being on a great mountain top, and one is reluctant to leave it.
To Mr. C. W. Wilshere^
Cambridge, February 4tA, 1876.
. . . Thanks many for your letter and your careful queries,
the best of compliments (who invented that French word ?)
. . . Page 28. I deprecate only "a resuscitation of the
ancient formula detached from the context of the Gospel,"
e.g. to people talking in sermons about " the only begotten
God." But certainly in the English Bible I should like St.
John's true words to be rendered as truly as they can.
Page 56. The difference of doctrine in Eusebius was a
subtle one ; he taught a co-eternity, but not that of Athan-
asius. ^ Homoeousian ' is rather a name of men than of a
doctrine. Athanasius, etc., objected to it only as having a
dangerous ambiguity, just as Homoeousians objected to
'Homoousian' as dangerously ambiguous on the Sabellian
side.
1 In answer to some questions on the Two Dissertaiions^ of which Hort
had sent Mr. Wilshere a copy.
212 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
. . . Page 86. Certainly these passages (as, I venture to
think, much o{ the Second Dissertation) have a considerable
bearing on the Bonn conference; that is, they furnish evi-
dence as to the origin and meaning of the Procession clause.
As you would see, Bollinger's policy was to draw the Greeks
on to the Athanasian (not Quicunque vult / /) presentation,
substantially retained by John of Damascus.
. . . Pages 107-112. I cannot think that the original
Nicene Creed could ever be resuscitated. It has been
resigned too long to archaeology. But the true uninter-
polated Revised Creed of Jerusalem is in full life for Easterns
and (by dropping the interpolations) for Westerns. It can
do without Councils, which are broken reeds, just as well as
the * Apostles' * Creed does. I did not write my Second
Dissertation either to help or to hinder the Bonn policy, but
simply because I had found out some facts which seemed
worth knowing; but I cannot help thinking that the result
is really favourable to the Bonn policy in the long-run.
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, March 17M, 1876.
. . . To-day is St Patrick's Day, on which, when I
was of your age, I used to wear in my frock a piece of
small green clover called Shamrock, in memory of St.
Patrick, who is greatly honoured in Ireland. Also when
we went out of the hall door we used to find women sitting
with St. Patrick's crosses for sale. These were made with
paper cut in patterns with ribbons, and I used to wear one
pinned to my frock for the day.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Cambridge, AscensUn Day^ 1876.
. . . Since our talk the other evening I have tried
to think over the subject which it reached at last, look-
ing at whatever passages seemed to bear on it, especially
AGE 48 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 213
of course in the Epistle to the Hebrews ; and the impression
is, I must say, strongly confirmed that the ^dea expressed
in the hymn, 'Still . . . His prevailing death he pleads,'
has no apostolic warrant, and cannot even be recon-
ciled with apostolic doctrine. It is of course only by an
accommodation that we can use the language of time at all
in speaking of things Divine ; but so far as the Atonement in
relation to God is spoken of in any terms of time, the Bible
seems to me to teach us to think of it as lying entirely in the
past, a thing done 'once for all'; that which remains con-
tinually being the eternal subjection to the Father's *will,'
of which the obedience even unto death was the manifesta-
tion. Do consider Heb. x. 1-23, 35-39 (especially 2, 3,
12-14). What is said of 'intercession' seems to belong
simply to the presenting of human prayers as the Head of
the race, or some cognate idea. AH traces of Christian
sacrifices that I can find in the N. T. represent them dis-
tinctively as 'living,' because they are founded not on the
Death alone, but on the Death as fulfilled and interpreted by
the Resurrection.
For the first time since I saw you I have been able to
have a few minutes this afternoon quietly with Westcott, and
I asked him what he felt I found that he took quite the
same view ; as also (very strongly) as to what I ventured to
say about the modem ' sacrifice ' as a mutilation of the Mass,
and both as parasites, heathen in conception, which had
replaced and nullified the true Oblation of the early Church.
Apart from his knowledge of the Bible, the Fathers, and
theology generally, his total freedom from Protestant pre-
judices gives, I think, some weight to his opinion.
Forgive my writing thus. It has been a good deal on my
mind since I saw you. Much love from us both to your wife.
— Ever affectionately yours, F. J. A. Hort.
P.S. — The only authority I think for 'the body' as
'broken' is the interpolated kX(o/uvov of 1 Cor. xi. 24. St
Paul wrote simply t^ wrlp vfuav (cp. in best MSS. ^uod pro
vobis est). The breaking of the bread is the participation of
the many in the one Ihdng body (i Cor. x. 16, 17).
214 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
To HIS SECOND Son
Mattmark, Saasthal, Switzerland,
August lo///, 1876.
My dear Frank — I was very glad to get your letter yester-
day, and to find that you remember some French and Latin
words. In the place where I am staying I should get on
badly without foreign languages ; for I have to speak German
to the people who keep the hotel, and French to the people
who are staying here like myself. Your sweet pea has quite
kept its colour in the letter, though I cannot say it has kept its
scent.
Tell Edward that Dr. Lightfoot has gone away some days.
I am afraid to send his letter to the iEggischhom, where Dr.
Lightfoot probably is now, because he will probably have left
it before the letter could arrive there ; but I will send it to
Cambridge, where he expected to be next week.
You would be amused by the three goats which, besides a
funny little dog, are all the cattle of this house. Sometimes
they perch on the low roof of a shed close by, and sometimes
they stand on a path against the hill close behind, looking
curiously about. One is white (they call her Schmewi^ that is,
Mrs. Snowy), and the two others black and white. We have
their milk for breakfast, mixed with cows' milk from a curious
little village called Distelalp (that is. Thistle Alp) about a
mile and a half off. It is built of low stone houses, very low
and very strong, so as to be able to stand against the
avalanches or masses of snow which roll down the mountain
side in spring. On one of the roofs the other day I saw a
man sitting and smoking his pipe, with his little girl by his
side. Since I came here the people have travelled up from
the valley below to live in that village for the summer months,
bringing with them the cows and goats, and also some of their
own furniture, which they mostly carry in great baskets on
their shoulders. The other day I saw several people setting
out with their baskets on their shoulders for the flat watery
ground near the Mattmark See, a pretty lake not far off; and
I was told that they were going to fill the baskets with the
AGS 48 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 215
heads of the cotton-grass which grows there, to make mattrasses
of. Now I must come to an end Give my love to every-
body, from Freddie and Mary upwards, and believe me, your
affectionate Father, F. J. A. Hort.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Mattmark, August 15M, 1876.
My dear Ellen — When letters come again, I daresay I
shall soon find one from you among them ; but at all events I
will not wait for that, but write to you to-day. ... I had
rather thought of walking to Distelalp this afternoon, where
there is a sort of little festival in honour of measuring the
milk ; but at present it looks too wet. Some cows give much
more milk than others ; but it would be very inconvenient to
keep apart every day the milk coming from every one's cows,
and the cheese made out of the milk. So they have one day
on which there is a grand milking, and a public officer comes
and measures the milk given by each cow ; and then at the
end of the summer the owner gets a proportional weight of
the joint stock of cheese.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcottj
Mattmark, August lotk, 1876.
. . . Autumn plants are beginning to flower; but it
is surprising how much of the summer vegetation still
lasts, including even Ranunculus pyrenaus and the sulphur
form of Anemone alpina. There is much of interest in the
plants hereabouts. Rhodiola^ which I have never before seen
out of England, is everywhere conspicuous ; and now we have
the quaint Piedmontese Campanula excisa. But just now I
cannot get out of my head the wonderful facts collected in
Sir J. Lubbock's little book on fertilisation, and they make
every flower a new world which one vainly sighs to have time
to explore.
About things of the East, I cannot believe that we differ as
much as we seem to do. (I have no late news, all my news-
2i6 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
papers except the first two having succumbed to the Swiss
post) To nearly all that you say I could agree, but do not
feel that it touches the main issues. It is strange to me that
I now find little to alter in my old feeling about the Crimean
war, which I have always regarded as necessary, just, and
beneficent But then it always seemed to me that the
necessity probably would not have arisen but for the bitter
blunder, chiefly caused by Lord Palmerston's hatred of every-
thing Christian, of the English policy of frowning on the
subjects of the Turks, and so compelling them against their
will to look to Russia. So also the one evil result of the war
seemed to be the fresh strength given to Turkey ; and that
was compensated by the advantage of giving the Turks one
more substantial chance of showing that they could fulfil some
of the elementary duties of an European nation. Surely now
they have signally failed, and become a mere pest The
ethics of intervention are always perplexing ; but at least the
perplexity does not aflFect sympathy. What concerns the
cwitas gentium (therefore practically not Mexico or S. America)
must surely concern us, duty and interest being here in-
separable. To abandon the Levant would seem to me next
in criminality to abandoning India. Our public (not the
Government) was cruelly unjust in India, and it is no wonder
if there is injustice now in English criticisms of Turkish
matters ; but I cannot help thinking that in the main a just
cause lies behind. — Ever affectionately yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To THE Rev. Dr. Moulton
6 St. Peter's Terrace, November 29M, 1876.
My dear Dr. Moulton — For once I will not procrastinate,
but do myself the pleasure of thanking you most warmly at
once for the present of your valuable book.^ The work in it
makes me sadly ashamed. It is also rather alarming to find
that one has (presumably — but I fear the presumption is not
always true) at some time formed and given effect to an
^ Probably the second edition of Dr. Moulton's Wirur^
AGE 48 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 217
opinion on a multitude of points that now look perfectly new.
However your notes will be a great help in preparing the
Introduction to our text, and also in the, I fear, not quite un-
necessary work of revising the plates. I trust that you will
let us have the benefit of any queries that you may have com-
mitted to paper. I do congratulate you sincerely on getting
your volume off your hands. The relief must be great
indeed.
To-morrow or next day I hope to send you in return for
this thesaurus (how many shades of meaning dvri fortunately
has !) a small pinch of matter in the shape of a fly-sheet on
Heb. L 8, which Dr. Scrivener's notice has wrung from me
sorely against my will
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
(Who had just gone to school)
Cambridge, February ist, 1877.
My dear Ellen — Mamma and I were very glad to get your
letter to-day. We are constantly thinking of you, and wishing
that we had eyes that could see all the way to Newbury, and
then through the walls of a certain house there. However,
we must for the present be satisfied with such glimpses as will
go by post. Anything and everything that you have to tell
will be interesting.
I do not wonder that you find it all very odd at first, some-
what as if you found yourself tied to a steam-engine which
kept on going with all sorts of wheels and pistons moving in
all sorts of ways. It is a great change to any one when they
go first to a boarding-school, especially when they have seen
nothing of any kind of school life before.
. . . Perhaps it is just as well that Oxford has champions
at Newbury as well as Cambridge. I have not the least fear
that you will ever be disloyal to Cambridge ; but it is as well
to know that Oxford has its own merits and glories too.
Most of my own schoolmasters, Dr. Arnold included, were
Oxford men.
2i8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Cambridge, February 21s/, 1877.
My dear Ellen — Your little box of flowers was a great
pleasure to us all. It came quite unexpectedly, the hand-
writing not having at once been recognised, and the bright
little things were quite fresh and natural Some of the
flowers are now on my table, in company with a beautiful
blossom of the Triteleia from the garden, with white corolla
tipped with lilac, — beautiful to look at, but not beautiful to
smell, for the creature might actually by a blind man be taken
for a Garlic !
... I was much obliged for your account of your lessons
and of your day generally. I certainly do not wonder at your
being a little puzzled by all the histories, for undeniably there
are * a lot of them,' as Frank would say. But after all they
are all only so many branches of one big tree, as I think you
will And out before long.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Cambridge, Maundy Thursday^ 1877.
... On the whole I do not think your report of Barnes ^
aflairs discouraging. Too quick success not seldom promises
ill for the long game, which is always the game of the Church.
Do hold out against a School Board if you can. I fear they
are harder to avert than they seemed a few years ago, but their
perils also seem greater ; and above all, nothing will so raise the
standard of School Boards as the maintenance of vigorous and
rational Church schools around them. — Ever affectionately
yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Cambridge, May znd^ 1877.
... It is well that the walks have begun well. No
doubt they will go on and prosper as the weather becomes
^ EllertoD's new parish.
AGE 49 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 219
more genial. We can quite fancy all the places you saw
as you went along. The buttercup is Goldilocks {Ranun-
culus auricoMus\ which sometimes has much less in the
way of petals than your specimen, sometimes has them
quite large. You may remember it growing about the roots
of the pollards in the avenue leading to Red Coats Green.
The little brown flower is a Luzula or Woodrush. There are
two families of rushes — crushes proper {/uncus) and wood-
rushes {Luzula). They have much the same flowers, but the
leaves oi /uncus (when there are any) are smooth and roundish,
while the leaves of Luzula are flat and grass-like, and usually
fringed with some long white hairs. The flower is much
prettier under a magnifying glass than you might suppose;
first the perianth of six sharp shaded chocolate scales or petals,
then inside three or six plump yellow stamens, and in the middle
the germen with three beautiful long plumy stigmas, some-
times of a delicate pink. In damp hollows in the woods you
will probably And a very large kind of Luzula with broad
leaves.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
San Martino di Castrozza, Predazzo, Val di Fiemme,
S. Tyrol, /ufte 17M, 1877.
. . . Turin was the last place I should have chosen
for Sunday, but we could not help ourselves. We enjoyed
it more than I expected. Next day we joined the Luards
at Varese, tilling the long interval of trains at Milan with
snatches of three or four chief sights. We found Luard
and ;the child both certainly better, and both needing
to become much better still. On the 30th we went to
Verona, intending to go forward next day, but on going to
bed I found my main stock of money missing. After some
delay next day I had a telegraphic answer from Luard that it
was safe at Varese, but could not be safely entrusted to other
hands. We saw what we could of inexhaustible Verona that
afternoon and next morning, and took the only good train on
the I St back to Varese, having time to see the Monastero
Maggiore at Milan on the way. The Luards were (for a
220 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
while at least) leaving Varese next day, and it seemed on the
whole best to drive with them to Como (where there was just
time to see a little of the marvellous Luinis in the Cathedral),
and spend Sunday with them at Cadenabbia. Neither of us
had ever been on the Lake of Como before. It is an exqui-
site spot, and but for the heat the vegetation would have been
painfully tempting. But those luxurious hotels for English
idlers would be too irritating for more than a few hours. On
the Monday we had a delightful journey by Lecco and Ber-
gamo to Verona, and then on to Trent. The glimpse at the
Cathedral next morning had to be provokingly short Both
that and the surroundings of the city were far greater than my
recollections of twenty-three years ago had painted them.
Then came an hour of railway, a wait at an inn at the dirty
little town of Neumarkt, and a most refreshing drive over the
hills to Cavalese in the Val di Fiemme, and then up the
valley to Predazzo. It required great faith in geology to
believe that we were in the midst of a great crater ; but who
could disbelieve when the portraits of Murchison, etc, stared
from the walls of the bedroom? The next and last day's
journey was by * Post ' in the strictest sense, a rude mail-cart
which had only the day before replaced the sledges over the
pass.
The drive up was full of pleasant combinations of forest
and meadow ; the drive down brought us to this spot, at the
foot and yet in full sight of a wondrous array of dolomitic
peaks, besides two other fine mountain views. It is a breezy
spot, little less than 5000 feet high, with great variety of small
comparatively level walks, and so just what we wanted
To THE Rev. Dr. Milligan
I Belvoir Terrace, North Malvern,
August 25M, 1877.
My dear Milligan — Many thanks to you for sending me
your two most interesting papers, which I have read carefully.
They suggest various points on which I cannot trust my
memory, and have here no needful books to refresh it, so that
AGE 49 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 221
I feel rather helpless, but I will jot down briefly the main
points of my impressions.
To begin with, I wish I could see as clearly as you do that
St John treats our Lord as the Paschal Lamb at all Why
are the quotations so little distinctive? xix. 36 may be
paschal, or it may not; xix. 37 strikes me as not paschal at
all ; even the * first-bom ' is surely of doubtful reference, and
I see no reference to the Jewish festival or deliverance over
against the Egyptian calamity. The four passages referred to
(24, 28, 36, 37) are from prophetic books; the Law is no-
where. So also in i. 29 the paschal lamb may possibly be in-
cluded^ but the direct reference seems to me to be clearly to
Isaiah liii. It is to me very difficult to imagine the absence of
the Paschal Lamb from St. John's conception, and I am very
far from denying it, but the want of clear evidence is to me
most perplexing.
Given that the paschal lamb is in St John, then it seems
to me highly likely that you are right that not the slaying but
the partaking is with him the primary fact ; and if so, as far as
I see at present, the historical as well as the doctrinal point is
gained. As to the details I hesitate, and in some cases more
than hesitate. Nothing seems to me to indicate an idea that the
exspiration was subsequent to the death, or to mark a previous
point of time for the 'death.' Probably, however, your
fundamental point is untouched by this. May it not be that
to St John the true Paschal Lamb is a living sacrifice, as He
is the living Bread (see vi. passim) ? It is only as living that
He can become human food ; this is the Christian differentia.
The death is not thereby denied, but confined to other signi-
ficances.
The vinegar and hyssop are very interesting, and I hope
you are right, but it is strange that their paschal character is
not biblical. Here, as in the other cases, it would seem as if
St John looked to the Law only so far as it was reflected in
the Prophets.
I have not read Carruthers, but find it hard to believe
hyssop to be a marjoram, and the evidence for the caper is
very strong. I have always felt that it cannot be the ' reed,'
or have supplied a substitute. The choice lies between iW^
222 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
and the supposition adopted by you at p. 30 that it was some-
thing fixed (with the sponge) to the end of the reed ; to the
second I have of late been inclining. It is mentioned in the
new apologetic treatise (Cent. IV.) by Macarius Magnes.
The anti- Passover idea seems to me intrinsically very
probable, but I fail to see the evidence for it Certainly in
29 the subject need not be the soldiers; but if St John's
mind was fixed on the Jews as the actors, surely he would
have expressed the thought in some way. By leaving the verb
impersonal he seems to fix our attention on the incident solely
in its relation to our Lord.
Forgive these very scrambling and unceremonious criti-
cisms.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Cambridge, September 24M, i877-
My dear Ellen — ^This week there is a big piece of news for
the weekly letter. You and Arthur are no longer to have the
dignity of school all to yourselves ! On Saturday mamma and
I hope to take Frank and Edward to Beckenham. . . . You
can imagine the growth in height and dignity since last night,
when they first learned what was going to happen to them.
Dear little boys. I trust and believe it will be for their good ;
but it is an anxious time when any child goes away from home
(not that it is ever altogether otherwise at home !), and doubly
anxious when two such Httle ones are sent out to take a
dip into the wide world, even though we know it is in a well-
sheltered comer.
I have not seen Sir F. Doyle's Lectures on Poetry, but I
should think they would be interesting, and certainly not stiif.
I wish I could help you to a comedies but, alas ! I know
nothing about such things. However I do quite sympathise
in your unwillingness to have to personate Tristan I'Hermite.
By the way, I hope you have borrowed and finished Quentin
Durward, It came to an end with us on the last Malvern
evening. The last few pages were noisy and exciting ; but I
think you heard the most really interesting part. You do not
mention the name of the author of the book on Early Italian
AGE 49 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 223
Painters. You are sure to like to hear about Cimabue and
Giotto. You will remember Giotto painted that series of
pictures in the Arena chapel at Padua of which we have now
got engravings.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Cambridge, October 24/A, 1877.
. . . Monday was a day which I hope we shall long
remember here. For some time past there has been a
wish to send a Cambridge Mission to India, and Delhi has
been fixed on as the place for it Mr. Bickersteth, one of
the Fellows of Pembroke, offered to go out ; and others will
soon join him. One of them, Mr. Murray of St John's, is
going out with him ; and on Monday he was ordained deacon
by the Bishop of Ely at Great St Mary's. Mamma and I
went, and Dr. Westcott preached a most interesting sermon.
I hope we shall often hear what Mr. Bickersteth and Mr.
Murray are doing in the ancient capital of India. They are
to sail on Tuesday.
To HIS eldest Daughter
(On her Confirmation)
Cambridge, Sunday, November 25M, 1877.
My darling Ellen — ^You know already how much we shall
be with you in heart and mind to-day, although we cannot
form part of the congregation in Newbury church \ and now
I wish to put on paper some few things which I should like to
say, in the way of guidance and help. It has been necessary
to leave in Mr. Randall's hands the special preparation for
to-day, but that makes me all the more desirous to try to
gather up for you some of the leading thoughts which it will
be well for you to keep in mind. It may be all the better
that my words should reach you on the day after the Con-
firmation, when you will be starting afresh on the new stage
of life.
First, I would say, do not allow yourself to think of Con-
224 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
firmation as a new burden. It is a new responsibility, and
every new responsibility may be turned by ourselves into a
burden; but in itself it is only a blessing. Think of it as
what the word means — a strengthening. We are all full of
weaknesses and ignorances. If we think ourselves particularly
strong about anything, there is reason to fear that it is only a
dangerous weakness wrongly seen ; but Confirmation gives us
the promise of such strength and guidance as we shall need
continually as time goes on.
Our Confirmation points back to our Baptism, and we
learn through the Catechism to see much of what they both
mean. They do not lay upon us something strange and fresh,
but teach us what we were always made and meant to be, and
enable us to live accordingly more and more. We have not
got.to strive hardly after some distant object ; we have to know
and remember that already, without any act of ours, we are
children of the great and gracious Heavenly Father ; members,
that is, as it were parts and limbs, of His blessed Son, Jesus
Christ, He being our Head; and beings enjoying the privi-
lege of having our whole lives ruled by the laws of a great
invisible and heavenly kingdom. As St Paul says, we are
God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works
which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
All our wrong-doings are rebellions against the love of the
Father who made us, and also perversions and twistings of
our own true nature. Our Christian responsibilities are just
the responsibilities of human beings who have learned some-
thing of what they are, and what God is, and what the world
is in which He has set them to love and do His will, and per-
form their share of His work. Our Lord Jesus Christ came
on earth partly that He might make known to us the truth
most needful for us to know, partly that He might deliver us
from all evil. In learning to know Him through the Bible,
and through the experience of our own lives, we learn the true
way of looking at all things. In learning to love and follow
Him and be shaped by Him, we learn to root out and strip
off all the evil within us, and to blunt the sting of all the evil
without us. And the Holy Spirit which descended on Him
at His Baptism, and which is in a marked and special way
AGE 49 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 225
given to you to-day, is always ready to be with you in all your
own strivings; not taking the place of your own mind and
will, but helping your own mind to know and choose that
which is true and right The promise of your Confirmation
does not set you free from working with all your powers, for
that would be a au^e not a blessing, but it assures you that
God is working with you whenever you are working with God.
Keep then always before you first and foremost that God
is good, and that He made and redeemed you for goodness.
Then you will feel that those things which were renounced
for you at your Baptism, and which you renounce in your own
name to-day, are His enemies and yours, hindrances in the
way of your living the true life of His children. You are in
danger of being led astray by the example and opinion of
others ; that is the voice of the world. You are in danger of
being led astray by the imrestrained impulses of your own
body and lower nature ; that is the voice of the flesh. You
are in danger of being led astray by the pride and rebellious-
ness of your own will ; that is the voice of the evil one. And
yet God made us and meant us to live in helpful society with
other people, and to use in appointed ways the bodies and
spirits which He in His goodness gave us. So that we have
in daily life to learn and practise the difference between use
and misuse. And so we all pray to-day, " Defend, O Lord,
this Thy child with Thy heavenly grace, that she may con-
tinue Thine for ever."
I might say much more, but I do not want to weary or
perplex you. As you grow older, many difficulties are sure to
beset you, through which, God helping you, you will have to
fight your own way. You will, I am sure, find the task lighter
when you can share it with Mamma or me. You need never
fear harsh judgment or want of sympathy in either of us.
There is no possibility that we shall ever forget that we too
have been young; and, on the other hand, there are many
things which young eyes cannot see without help. But this
only by the way. I am chiefly anxious that you should re-
member this day as a day of blessing, and look back to it
as a sign that the invisible hands of our Father in heaven are
always, as it were, laid on your head. Then you cannot but
VOL. II Q
226 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, viii
find it the beginning of a new life of Faith, of Hope, and of
Love,
While I have been ending, the service has probably begun.
Mamma is sitting with me, and we together send all loving
prayers and wishes for our darling child. — Ever your affectionate
&ther, F. J. A. Hort.
To Mr. C. W. WilshereI
Cambridge, yom^rK 5M, 1878.
My dear Wilshere — ^That interpretation of the Te Deum
has, I know, been growing popular of late years, but I have
not read much about it, and do not think I have any book
containing it The chief mover, I believe, was Bishop Jacob-
son. As far as I can judge, it is moonshine. The one argu-
ment is the form of the first verse. I feel by no means sure
that the English rendering is wrong, especially if Greek was
the original language. But even on the doubtless easier
construction which makes both clauses alike, it is at least as
easy to suppose * God ' addressed as to suppose our * Lord '
addressed. As God the good Creator He is praised, as the
Lord, the rightful and righteous Ruler, He is acknowledged.
This distinction was familiar enough. On the other hand the
alternative view has difficulties at every step ; by no means in
the Trishagion only : e,g, * Venerandum tuum . . . Filium^
where, if there were a mere digression from Christ to the
Trinity, iuum was a gratuitously misleading insertion. The
' everlasting Father ' of Is. ix. 6 in the English and perhaps
the present Hebrew, could not influence the Fathers, for it
must have been unknown to them. The Septuagint had va.Tr\p
Tov [tk\\ovro% aiwvos (some MSS. omitting the whole phrase
after ' counsellor ' as did also apparently the Old Latin) ; while
Jerome, the only considerable Father who could certainly read
Hebrew, kept the LXX. reading in his Vulgate, * Pater fuiuri
sa€culi\' and says in his commentary, ^ Patrem autem fuiuri
saeculi et resurrecHonis^ quod in nostra vocatione completur,^ So
^ Mr. Wilshere had asked Hort's opinion on a contention that the
opening verses of the Te Deum are addressed to the Second Person of the
Trinity.
AGE 49 CAMBRIDGE : COLLEGE LECTURER 227
that I stick to the tripartite division which you put into the
Portuary.^ Such is adhesiveness. — Ever yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Cambridge, Ash Wednesday^ March 6ih, 1878.
. . . You have I daresay heard the good news that peace
is signed between the Turks and Russians. It took place
last Saturday at San Stephano, a little Turkish bathing-place
on the Sea of Marmora, a few miles from Constantinople.
As yet the exact terms of the peace are not known, and as they
may concern several other countries, there must still be some
anxiety till all the negotiations are over. But the reports of
the last few days have promised well, and we may now hope
that there will be no renewal of war. A few days ago things
looked very serious.
Mamma had the other day a long and interesting letter
from Mrs. Luard, in which she sent me a photograph of the
new Pope, which I am very glad to have. She and Mr.
Luard are very fortunate to have been in Rome for the last
few weeks. They could hardly have been there at a more
interesting time.
My love to the Pezizas, and tell them I don't think they
want more than two Z's in their name. But, if I remember
right, they had doubts on the matter themselves not long ago.
— Ever, dearest Ellen, your affectionate father,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To HIS ELDEST SON
(Who had just gained an Entrance Scholarship at Marlborough College)
Cambridge, /»ff^ 15M, 1878.
. . . Honour so won has two great uses. It is the re-
sponse to past effort, setting a seal that the effort has not
* A Portuary for the Laity ; a very much abbreviated Prayer-book,
containing only the Psalms, Canticles, and other portions in which the
congregation join. In it the Tc Deum is printed in three divisions, verses
14-21 being addressed to God the Son alone.
228 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, vin
been in vain. Often we have to put forth effort and then
find no visible seal; but we may rightly be thankful when
the seal is given. The other great use of honour is not for
the past but for the future, to help future effort by holding up
a high standard attached to ourselves, and bidding us be
always worthy of what we have won. In both ways honour
given to ourselves takes us out of ourselves, and that is always
the way of good. Perhaps you will not at once quite catch
what I mean ; but some day, with God's help, you will.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, y»ff^ 15M, 1878.
... As far as I can judge, there will be no real differ-
ences ^ to adjust, if only I can get pen sufficiently to paper.
Reading Birks had made me feel that what was written
would need verbal correction to guard against misunder-
standing. The process of corruption needs statement, I
think j few even of scholars realize what it means. I know
nothing about * fixed laws.' All one can say is that average
transcriptional error of all writings runs in certain lines.
On the one hand, it may be reduced to a small amount,
and that almost purely clerical, where there is rabbinical or
other similar scrupulousness. On the other, inaccuracy may
in certain men or at certain periods run into a laxity which is
careless about words though supposing itself faithful to sense,
and which draws no sharp line between transcribing and
editing, i,e. mending or completing. This last characteristic
naturally belongs to the early period. But I can see no clear
line of demarcation ; and 69,^ as far as I can judge from a
hasty glance at the Dublin book, shows how corruption of the
sort could happen at quite a late time. How much I wish I
had kept a register of my own detected errors of transcription
or other writing.
. . . The * Introduction ' should, I think, contain the pith
of the corresponding parts of both. But all would fall within
the limits of * exposition of principles.'
1 i.e, as to the principles embodied in the revision of the Text of the
Greek Testament. ^ A cursive mannscript.
1
CHAPTER IX
CAMBRIDGE: HULSEAN PROFESSOR
1 878- 1 887. Age 50-59.
In 1878, when Dr. J. J. S. Perowne became Dean of
Peterborough, Hort was elected to succeed him in the
Hulsean Professorship of Divinity. His election made
little change in the character of his work. He con-
tinued to lecture as professor on the same and similar
subjects as before. He gave further courses on the
Epistle of St James, and on the Apocalypse, chaps,
i.-iii., and lectured several times on the First Epistle of
St. Peter. The last-named lectures and those on St
James were contributions towards commentaries on
those epistles, which were long expected and never com-
pleted. Work on them had begun years before at St
Ippolyts ; these editions were to be at least an instal-
ment of his share in the joint commentary long since
projected between him, Lightfoot, and Dr. Westcott (see
vol. i. p. 372). As such, he regarded the completion of
them as a sacred duty, though eventually he was never
able to satisfy himself with the results of many years of
study and lecturing. The materials were accumulated
and a good deal written, at least tentatively. Vaca-
tions were largely taken up with the preparation of
fresh lectures, and also with necessary recruiting of
230 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
health, while term-time was crowded with syndicates
and other exacting College and University business.
Just after his death appeared Dr. J. B. Mayor's edition
of SL James, dedicated to Hort, with a reference
which came pathetically enough at that time to the
'^ Uctaribus . . . splendidiorem lucent editionis Hortianae
jamdtidum desiderantibus!' Other subjects of his lec-
tures as Hulsean Professor were Cyril of Jerusalem, iii.
iv. v., Tatian, the Clementine Recognitions, Tertullian
adv, Marcionent iv. v., the Epistle to the Romans
(introduction and select passages), and 'Judaistic
Christianity in the Apostolic and following Ages.'
In 1879 a great blow fell on the Divinity faculty
at Cambridge by the removal of Dr. Lightfoot to the
see of Durham. There were doubtless friends of
Lightfoot who, at the time at least, thought that the
change involved more loss than gain. Hort, how-
ever, deeply as he felt the loss to Cambridge and the
probable loss to learning, advised Lightfoot to accept
the offered bishopric, and had ample cause afterwards
to rejoice in the issue of this critical decision. He
was present at the consecration of the new bishop,
when Dr. Westcott preached the sermon ; eleven years
later the preacher of that day was himself consecrated
to the same office, and Hort, the only one of the
three then left to Cambridge, stood in his turn in the
pulpit
The same year in which Lightfoot left Cambridge
for the coalfields of the north, Professor Clerk Max-
well died. Hort was one of those who had known
him best, and most keenly appreciated his scientific
brilliance, deep earnestness, and whimsical humour ;
his paradoxes had been the delight of the ' Eranus '
Society and of the * Apostles * in earlier days. Hort
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 231
was invited by Professor Lewis Campbell to contribute
to his Memoir an account of Maxwell's religious
opinions ; he was unable to do all that he and the
biographer would have wished, and sent only a short
letter, the following extracts from which are almost
as illustrative of the writer's mind as of that of his
subject : —
The testimony of his unshaken faith to Christian truth
was, I venture to think, of exceptional value on account of
his freedom from the mental dualism often found in dis-
tinguished men who are absorbed chiefly in physical inquiries.
It would have been alien to his whole nature to seclude any
province of his beliefs from the exercise of whatever facul-
ties he possessed; and in his eyes every subject had its
affinities with the rest of the universal truth. His strong
sense of the vastness of the world not now accessible to
human powers, and of the partial nature of all human modes
of apprehension, seemed to enlarge for him the province of
reasonable belief. Thus in later years it was a favourite
thought of his that the relation of parts to wholes pervades
the invisible no less than the visible world,' and that beneath
the individuality which accompanies our personal life there
lies hidden a deeper community of being as well as of feeling
and action. But no one could be less of a dreamer or less
capable of putting either fancies or wishes in the place
of sober reality. In mind, as in speech, his veracity was
thorough and resolute ; he carried into every thought a per-
fect fidelity to the divine proverb which hung beside yet
more sacred verses on the wall of his private room, " The lip
of truth shall be established for ever."
The day after Hort had sat for the last time in
Maxwell's sick-room, the new Divinity School was
opened. He, like the other divinity professors, had
rooms assigned him there, which, as also his rooms at
Emmanuel College, he used chiefly for the storage of
part of his ever-growing library.
232 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
In 1880 steps were taken to establish a Girls'
School on the Perse foundation. Hort was on the
committee from the first, his chief coadjutors being
Professor E. C. Clark, Dr. Moulton of the Leys
School, and Dr. Bateson, Master of St John's. A
head-mistress was selected from ninety-one candidates,
and the school opened in January 1881. Hort sent
his second daughter as one of the first pupils. The
school was a subject of great interest to him, especi-
ally because he hoped to see in it a useful means of
bringing together the various classes in the town,
and of promoting good feeling between town and
University. His interest in local, as distinguished from
University affairs, was constant, though otherwise he
did not play a prominent part in local politics ; he
entered fully into the various educational and philan-
thropic work in which his wife was engaged, and his
contributions to local charities were most thoughtfully
regulated. With Lightfoot and Mr. Alfred Rose he
was one of the chief promoters of the Eden Street
Higher Grade School. At the general election of
1880 he gave his vote to the Liberal candidates for
the borough ; but this was the last occasion on which
he felt able to support the Liberal side. For Mr.
Gladstone, as his previous letters will have shown, he
had had for many years an intense admiration ; but
Mr. Gladstone's new Irish policy was contrary to all
that he believed to be the true needs of his native
land. Nor did the democratic turn taken by modem
Liberalism please him, while he was convinced that
Mr. Gladstone himself had created, instead of removing,
barriers between class and class.
The revision both of the Greek Text and of the
English version of the New Testament was now
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 233
drawing to a close. The last meeting of the New Testa-
ment Company was held in November 1880, when
committees were appointed to proceed at once to the
revision of the Apocrypha. The work of the Cambridge
Committee, to which were assigned the second book of
Maccabees and Wisdom, practically devolved on Hort,
Dr. Moulton, and Dr. Westcott, assisted by notes from
Dr. Roberts. The sittings, which began in March
1 88 1, were held weekly in term-time. After Dr.
Westcott's removal to Durham in 1890 his assist-
ance was continued by letter. The Book of Wisdom
was revised three times, and the whole work practi-
cally finished by the summer of 1892. Some
points reserved for later decision were considered by
Hort during his last visit to Switzerland, and his
notes thereon, completed at Cambridge a very few
days before his death, were the last work which
he did. They were sent to Dr. Westcott and Dr.
Moulton, who finally wound up the revision.^ Dr.
Moulton recalls from these meetings of the Cambridge
Committee a characteristic phrase of Hort's: "No
words of his," he says, " are more familiar to me than
* I don't in the least know what that means,' when
some phrase was newly approached, some word placed in
a new light, so that renewed investigation was needed."
When the Hellenic Journal was started, he con-
sented to serve on the Editorial Committee. He was
unable to take active part, but Professor Jebb was very
anxious to have him on the staff. Professor Percy
Gardner writes as follows on his connexion with the
Journal : —
When he agreed to join the Editorial Committee, it was
understood that he should not take any share in the active
^ See prefoce to the Revised Apocrypha.
234 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
work of editing, but rather act as referee if occasion arose.
As such I consulted him on three or four occasions when the
duty of an editor was not clear, when we were troubled by a
too controversial spirit in some of our contributors, and wished
if possible to avoid partisanship and offence. In such cases
his advice was of great value to us, because he combined a
judicial impartiality with great kindliness of feeling, and we
were all ready to accept his arbitration. He thus acted in the
capacity of peacemaker, which was, I am siu-e, quite congenial
to him. I clearly remember the kindness with which he
received me when I came to see him on these occasions, and
the eager way in which he threw himself into the task of con-
ciliation.
On May 17th, 1881, appeared the Revised New
Testament To Hort the virear and tear of the monthly
visit to London had been considerable, and it was
always a great effort to him to finish necessary pre-
paration by a given date. But apart from the Revision
itself, these journeys had been the occasion during the
last ten years of not a little pleasant intercourse with
London friends, and by the way he had been able to do
various odd bits of useful work at the British Museum
and elsewhere. He was most often the guest of Mrs.
Blunt and her daughter. Miss Julia Blunt, or of her son,
the Rector of Chelsea. The early months of 1881
were a time of great pressure. Hort felt it to be most
desirable that his and Dr. Westcott's Greek Testament
should appear before the Revised Version, and so at
last the work, which had gone on now for nearly thirty
years, was perforce brought to a conclusion, and the
first volume, consisting of the Text itself, with a short
Introduction, appeared on May 12th, five days before
the Revised New Testament. There still remained
the second volume of * Introduction ' and * Appendix,'
which, after a renewed burst of work at high pressure,
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 235
came out on September 4th. When this was over, he
went with his wife for a much needed and much enjoyed
holiday in Provence, seeing, on the way to the Riviera,
Lyons, Vienne, Orange, Avignon, Nimes, Aigues Mortes,
and Aries. His permanent resting-place was Grasse, a
few miles above Cannes, where he stayed till late in Feb-
ruary 1882. This year he celebrated his silver wedding.
Now that the Greek Testament was off his hands, he
was comparatively free ; but new work came, and the
Text was by no means done with. He very shortly
set about preparing a small school edition, consisting of
the Text itself with the shorter Introduction appended
to the first volume of the larger edition. The tj^x)-
graphy was most thoroughly overhauled. He spent
many hours, magnifying glass in hand, in search of
broken letters and other minute blemishes. This volume
appeared in 1885. In 1875 ^^' Tregelles had died, and
a large box of his collations was put into Hort's hands.
All the parts of Dr. Tregelles' New Testament, except
the first, were enriched with very numerous patristic
references from Hort's collections. He had been in
constant communication with Tregelles for many years
past, and freely used for his own work his collations
and those of other scholars. In his ' Introduction ' it
was stated that the collection of materials had not
been part of his own plan. This is probably an over-
statement, though of course 'digestion' rather than
collection was his own special province. On Dr.
Tregelles' death he, with the help of Mr. A. W.
Streane, selected and edited the * Prolegomena ' which
accompanied Dr. Tregelles' Seventh Part. The words
' selected and edited ' give an inadequate, though
characteristic, account of his share in this volume. As
Professor J. A. Robinson observes, " Any one who reads
236 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
carefully the preface to the Addenda et Corrigenda of
Tregelles' edition will discover that Hort must have
verified practically the whole of Tregelles' work, besides
adding very largely to the presentation of the patristic
testimony." Other fresh revision work was supplied
by the committee which superintended the revision of
the text of the Septuagint for the University Press.
This work brought him into close communication with
Dr. Swete, the present Regius Professor of Divinity, to
whom the work was entrusted. The University Press
also issued in 1884, under the editorship of Dr.
Scrivener, a Greek Testament, showing the text used
by the translators of 1 6 11 , with the changes adopted
by the revisers. The preface to this book was revised
and practically re-written by Hort.
Even now it seems premature to forecast what will
be the ultimate fate of the Revised Version. The dis-
cussion on its merits was, of course, full of interest to
Hort, though he took no public part in it. That he
was satisfied in the main with the results of the revisers'
labours there can be no doubt, and his own share in
those labours must have been very large, even if the
statement of his principal critic is overdrawn — "that
Dr. Hort advocated his own peculiar views in the
Jerusalem Chamber with so much volubility, eagerness,
pertinacity, and plausibility, that in the end ... his
counsels prevailed." The same critic, it may be
mentioned, calculates that " Dr. Hort talked for three
years out of the ten." It is estimated that he was
present at 88 per cent of the whole number of sit-
tings, and he was always in his place at the beginning
of the session, and remained to the end. But I am
unable to say whether or no he was altogether satisfied
with the revisers' English, which is generally considered
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 237
the most vulnerable part of their work. He would not
have disclaimed responsibility for anything in the pro-
duction of which he took so prominent a part, and a
large share of the credit for the strict — some would say
over strict — fidelity of the translation undoubtedly
belongs to him. Still his province was mainly to
supply information on the preliminary questions of
reading which came before the translators. Each
member of the Company had been supplied with a
private copy of Westcott and Hort's Text, but the
Company did not, of course, in any way bind itself to
accept their conclusions. Another school of textual
criticism was represented on the Company by Dr.
Scrivener, and it was competent for any member to
state and defend views of his own. No change in the
traditional text was admitted without a majority of two-
thirds of the votes.
Dr. Moulton, himself a reviser, gives the following
account of Hort's work on the Company : —
By tacit consent Dr. Scrivener and Dr. Hort were respect-
ively the exponents and advocates of the opposing principles.
I well remember the deep impression made on me from the
first by Dr. Hort's exposition of what he held to be the true
method of criticism, especially his care in tracing the various
streams of evidence, and the cogency of his argument from the
convergence of different streams in favour of particular read-
ings. So complete was his success in convincing the Company
as to the general soundness of his theory, that Dr. Scrivener
in later meetings very often contented himself with the bare
mention of the less conspicuous readings advocated by Dr.
Hort's school, assuming that they would certainly be accepted
by the Company ; though he was always ready for a battle on
points of special moment. It was not often that Dr. West-
cott needed to speak on matters of text, but Dr. Lightfoot
frequently threw the weight of his authority on the same side.
Dr. MiUigan was perhaps, next to these, the chief advocate of
238 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT CHAy
the same general principles of criticism. In all these disX
cussions Dr. Hort showed the characteristics which belonged
to all his work. It was impossible to know which to admire
more — his firm grasp of principle or. his mastery of detail.
Many a time stores of patristic evidence were brought to bear
on the discussion of a reading, evidence not found in the
printed critical apparatus, but accumulated in his own study.
Doubtful arguments offered on his side by friends he would at
once set aside as not convincing, for it was as clear as day that
what he sought was not victory but truth. . . . Many, no
doubt, differed from him, but his noble simplicity of character
raised him above all temptation to argue for aught but the
true, or to look at counter arguments otherwise than as they
bore upon the true.
As might have been expected, the text adopted by
the revisers was by no means identical with that of
Westcott and Hort It was naturally more * conser-
vative,' if that be the right word for adherence to
traditional readings. The authority of the two
Cambridge Professors was, however, inevitably allowed
great weight, and their presence at the meetings secured
the maintenance of the principle that questions of read-
ing must be decided on their own merits, irrespectively
of questions of interpretation. If it had been otherwise,
Hort, for one, could not have been satisfied with the
thoroughness of the Company's work. In fact it was
only on such an understanding that he had consented
to serve. It was not unnatural that the main attack of
hostile criticism should be made on those of the revisers
who had been audacious enough to insist that the new
translation should not slavishly adhere to the so-called
' Received ' Text, a title which, by the way, that text
acquired only by a curious accident^
The Revision was attacked in a series of three
^ See Westcott and Hart's Greek TesUment, vol. ii. pp. ii, 12.
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 239
articles published in the Quarterly Review^ and after-
wards (in 1883) issued in book form under the title,
The Revision Revised, The authorship of the articles
was an open secret, and the writer of them, Dr. Burgon,
Dean of Chichester, acknowledged it on the title-page
of the re-issue, and added to them a * Reply ' to the
pamphlet in which Bishop EUicott, the Chairman of the
New Testament Company, had defended the revisers
and the Greek text adopted by them.
The first of the three articles attacked the revisers'
text, ignoring, except for one long footnote, Westcott
and Hort's second volume^ which contained the justi-
fication of their method and its results. The second
was a criticism of the new English version, and the
third an examination of the textual theory advanced
in Westcott and Hort's second volume (* Introduction '
and * Appendix'). The Revision Revised is a portly
volume, full of the raciest English, with the literary
flavour of methods of controversy usually regarded as
obsolete. Westcott and Hort are therein treated as the
chief authors of all the mischief of the Revision, and
their text is throughout regarded as the work of a
picturesque imagination. But it would be unprofitable
to quote at length, or in any way to revive unnecessarily
a somewhat hopeless controversy. There were some,
doubtless, who wished that the two Cambridge Pro-
fessors had publicly defended themselves against the
attack. There were more, perhaps, who felt that Dean
Burgon had some justification for the complaint that
their exposition of their own theory did not set forth
all the facts on which it rested. Other more kindly
critics complained that the ' Introduction ' was not
double its actual size. But the volume had to be of
reasonable dimensions, and it was necessary to this end
240 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
to limit its contents mainly to the statement of results,
without full exposition of the processes by which those
results had been reached. The method pursued is
indeed fully explained, but, in the application of it, a
complete history of the steps by which each conclusion
has been reached is naturally not given. The pieces
justificatives were of course extant, and will yet be
made accessible. The two editors had almost from the
first conducted all their discussions on paper, and these
notes were all carefully preserved.
Of the two editors Dean Burgon selected Hort as the
most guilty, inasmuch as the 'Introduction' was the work
of his hand. The apportionment of the work is thus
described in the book itself : " We venture to hope that
the present text has escaped some risks ... by being
the production of two editors of different habits of
mind, working independently and to a great extent on
different plans, and then giving and receiving free and
full criticism, wherever their first conclusions had not
agreed together. For the principles, arguments, and
conclusions set forth in the * Introduction' and 'Appendix'
both editors are alike responsible. It was, however, for
various reasons expedient that their exposition and illus-
tration should proceed throughout from a single hand ;
and the writing of this volume and the other accom-
paniments of the text has devolved on Dr. Hort" If,
therefore, an answer to Dean Burgon had been thought
advisable, it would have naturally fallen on Hort to
write it. That he did not do so was not due to any
indolence or indifference to criticism, but to deliberate
choice. Dean Burgon's work was not unknown to him.
His defence of the genuineness of the last twelve verses
of St. Mark's Gospel, published some years before, had
been thought to necessitate a fuller treatment of that
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 241
passage in Westcott and Hort's * Appendix.' When
the Quarterly articles appeared, it does not seem that
either collaborator was much upset by them ; the only
fear was lest those unacquainted with textual criticism
should be misled by the reviewer's " formidable array
of ' authorities.' " Still silence seemed best, and it has
been justified. The adversary was not, indeed, likely
to be silenced by a reply, and would certainly not have
been convinced, seeing that his fundamental conceptions
of the province of Biblical criticism were hopelessly
irreconcilable with those of his opponents. There was
no common ground on which Hort could meet a critic
who started with the conviction that any reading stood
self-condemned which altered a cherished passage ; that
in deciding a question of reading the traditional printed
text should be the starting-point of investigation, instead
of the original documents, on an exceedingly meagre
selection of which that text was founded ; and that, in
settling a question between rival readings, the witnessing
authorities should be counted, not weighed. That these
are no unfair examples of Dean Burgon's views will be
evident to any reader of T/te Revision Revised. His
quarrel was with the whole school of criticism of which
Hort was the latest representative, and from his own
point of view he was unanswerable, since the only
possible answer would not appeal to him. Apart from
these considerations, however, Hort felt it to be useless
for him to answer criticisms which could not be founded
on knowledge equal to his own. It was hardly any
disparagement of a critic's attainments to say that he
was not qualified to review theories founded on induc-
tion from an enormous number of facts, unless he had
himself mastered those facts and thought out their mean-
ing. For along with deep humility he possessed also no
VOL. II R
242 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
slight degree of confidence that he had reached, by the
toil and reflection of years, a position which entitled
him to speak with some authority ; and, if his authority
was questioned, he was content to wait till, as often
happened, maturer study brought his critics round to
his own conclusions. This confidence in his own
powers never showed itself in giving an opinion on a
subject which he had not made his own ; if he had not
been able himself to go to the bottom of a question, he
would express his opinion on it with almost excessive
self-depreciation. But with the textual criticism of the
New Testament the case was different ; here he knew
that he had acquired such knowledge as was accessible,
and he therefore expressed his opinions with no false
humility. No one who had ever asked his advice
could have accused him of dc^matism or intolerance
of criticism ; all he asked was that a critic should have
equipped himself by looking at the facts from every
side, as he had done himself. But this demand was
naturally one with which few critics could comply. He
did indeed read and annotate carefully his copy of
The Revision Revised^ but decided eventually to leave
the issue to time. Nor did he cherish the slightest
animosity against his assailant, for whom in other
respects he had real regard.
An able reply was in fact made by a writer in the
Church Quarterly Review^ who gave a very careful and
lucid account of the new textual theory.^ Another
answer by Dr. Sanday was published in the Cantem'
parary Review. Many other important and elaborate
^ A good popular account of the theory has been recently given by Mr.
F. G. Kenyon {Our Bible and the Ancient Manuscripts, Eyre and Spottis*
woode, 1895), whom I have to thank for kindly revising my attempt at a
description of it.
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 243
notices of the book appeared both at home and abroad,
e.g. in the British Quarterly Review and the Presbyterian
Review (by Professor B. B. Warfield). On all sides, even
when adhesion to the new theory was given with caution,
there was a general willingness to consider on its own
merits the results of the mature deliberations continued
through twenty-eight years, of two scholars of acknow-
ledged acuteness and calmness of judgment. To those
who knew anything of Hort personally or of his literary
habits there was something whimsical in the view that
the predominant characteristics of his mind were rash-
ness and heedlessness.
The Greek Testament known now to scholars as
WH, has long since taken its place as the latest
product of sound criticism of the text of the New
Testament, and as the text which is likely to be made
the starting-point of any future investigations. Finality
of course was not predicted for it by its editors, though
they confidently believed that it was possible with the
means at their disposal to produce a text which should
be an approximation to the autographs of the Apostles
and Evangelists. The volume containing the Text
included a short ' Introduction,' giving in an abbreviated
form the principles of criticism more fully expounded
in the second volume. A marked feature in the appear-
ance of this text is the very free employment of a kind
of capital letters to distinguish quotations from the Old
Testament Very great pains were taken over all details
of orthography, typography, and punctuation. Con-
siderable alterations were more than once made in the
stereotyped plates, and there was doubtless rejoicing at
the University Press when the ideal of such fastidious
workmen was at length realised. It is said, with what
truth I do not know, that Hort was greatly disturbed
244 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
because an accent was unaccountably missing in the
final proof, which he could prove had been present in
the previous one ; the thin projection of the type had
broken off in the printing.
The second volume is a very elaborate and difficult
scientific treatise much condensed in expression ; yet,
soon after its appearance, Hort received interesting
letters showing that it was being read and mastered
in the most unexpected quarters. It was matter of
common knowledge that the Revisers had made use of
the Text ; hence many people had been looking anxiously
for its public appearance, and its publication, and still
more that of the ' Introduction/ was an event of no
ordinary importance in the world of scholars. Of the
scope of the ' Introduction ' little idea could be given
without entering into unwelcome technicalities. The
method advocated is a further development of that
employed by Griesbach, and to some extent by BengeL
It is distinguished from the methods of some of West-
cott and Hort's most eminent predecessors, such as
Lachmann, Tischendorf, and Tregelles, by its division of
the authorities into ' groups.' The following is an out-
line of the results of * grouping.' *
In the mass of testimony to the text of the New
Testament afforded by Greek manuscripts, versions
in other languages, and quotations in the works of
the Fathers, Hort distinguishes four main 'types' of
readings: these he calls 'Syrian,' 'Western,' 'Alex-
andrian,' and ' neutral.' The first and last-named are
new designations, and the others he does not use precisely
in the previously accepted senses of the terms. Ac-
cording to his theory, the arguments for which are
^ For a succinct account of the history of the scientific criticism of the
New Testament text see Westcott and Hort*s < Introduction,' pp. 13-14.
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 245
extremely elaborate, a deliberate revision of the existing
texts took place towards the end of the third century,
and a second revision about 350 A.D. The principal
evidence for this hypothesis is supplied by the char-
acter of the quotations from the New Testament found
in the writings of the ante-Nicene Fathers. If these
quotations are compared with those of the same passages
made by later Fathers, it is observed that the latter seem
to have used an 'edited' text, viz. one which (for
instance) combines alternative readings and assimilates
parallel passages. This ' edited ' text is what Hort calls
* Syrian ' ; he believes it to have originated at Antioch,
and it became the popular text in the East. Its char-
acteristics are thus given : " Entirely blameless on either
literary or religious grounds as regards vulgarized or un-
worthy diction, yet showing no marks of either critical
or spiritual insight, it presents the New Testament in a
form smooth and attractive, but appreciably impoverished
in sense and force, more fitted for cursory perusal or
recitation than for repeated and diligent study." This
is the type of text which, having supplanted the earlier
types, held the field in the Middle Ages, and on which
were founded the earliest printed texts, whence the so-
called * Received ' Text is derived. Manifestly, then, any
reading which is demonstrably * Syrian ' may be rejected
in the search for the primitive text, and a large number
of ' authorities ' may be safely set aside which only attest
readings of a later date than this Syrian recension.
Thus the fact that a given reading is supported by
quotation in an Eastern Father of the fifth century is
of little value in the search for the original words, seeing
that a revised form of the text was perhaps all that was
accessible to him.
Before the Syrian recension it is possible to dis-
246 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
tinguish three types of text, originating in and current
in different parts of the Christian world : these are called
respectively * Western/ ' Alexandrian/ and * neutral/ and
the three together are classed as * pre-Syrian.' The
origin of the Western t3^e is thus traced by Hort :
"In surveying a long succession of Western readings
by the side of others, we seem to be in the presence of
a vigorous and popular ecclesiastical life, little scrupulous
as to the letter of venerated writings or as to their
permanent function in the future, in comparison with
supposed fitness for immediate and obvious edification."
The Western text in fact is characterised by a tendency
to paraphrase and by interpolations, of which the
Codex Bezse, preserved in the University Library at
Cambridge, affords the most remarkable examples.
Its name is due to its having been preserved chiefly in
Latin manuscripts (including some which, like the Codex
Bezae, are ' bilingual ') ; originally it also came from the
East. The Alexandrian type — a name which more
readily explains itself — is thus described : " The changes
introduced have usually more to do with language than
matter, and are marked by an effort after correctness
of phrase. They are evidently the work of careful and
leisurely hands, and not seldom display a delicate
philological tact which unavoidably lends them at first
sight a deceptive appearance of originality." There
remains the *' neutral ' ; the name is merely a convenient
label for a type of text which is characterised by the
absence alike of Western diffuseness and Alexandrian
polish ; it cannot, like the others, be localised. It
represents the purest line of tradition, and, if any
manuscripts were extant which were of purely * neutral '
character, it would be obviously well to follow these to
the neglect of all others. The nearest approach to
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 247
such a character is made by the great Vatican Codex,
the readings of which were till recently made inac-
cessible by Papal jealousy. Though, however, it is not
entirely free from the characteristics of the less pure
types of text, it is regarded by Hort^ as a first-rate
authority ; even when it stands alone, its evidence is
regarded as of very high value, while, when it agrees
with some other of certain selected good manuscripts,
especially with Tischendorfs Sinai Codex, their joint
testimony is accepted as almost decisive.
Such is a brief outline of Horfs classification of
documents, but it is impossible to do it justice in fewer
words than are used in his own masterly ' Intro-
duction ' ; so compact a statement cannot well be
summarised. This classification, involving, as it did,
the scientific marshalling of such a host of data as few
but experts can have any idea of, is alone enough to set
his work on a different level from that of his predecessors.
Of other critics, some have been content to construct
their text from a selection of early documentary
authorities, some, proposing to take account of aU the
manuscript evidence, have lost themselves in the vast
field for want of guiding principles. Without classifica-
tion in fact it becomes necessary to accept all manu-
scripts as authorities of more or less weight, and the
task of the critic, who attempts thus to construct a
text out of the mass of conflicting testimonies, becomes
at once Herculean and futile. Some of the obvious
defects from which such a method must inevitably
suffer, are that it makes the individual critic's prejudices,
however involuntary, the criterion, and that the decision
is made by a majority of witnesses, when their evidence
^ For convenience' sake I refer here and elsewhere to the acttial author
of the * Introduction ' as representing the two editors.
248 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
may in fact be only collusive. This latter defect Hort's
method escapes altogether, while the former is avoided,
as far as may be, by the use of a variety of methods in
combination, so that one is tested by the other.
The obvious method of deciding between variant
readings, is for the critic to ask which the author
is most likely to have written, and so to settle the
question by the light of his own inner consciousness.
This method has its uses, and is a very common one,
but, if used alone, it is liable to manifest uncertainty.
A second method is to inquire which reading a
copyist would be likely to have made the author seem
to write. The answers obtained by these two methods
have respectively what Hort calls * intrinsic probability '
and * transcriptional probability ' ; the evidence which
both alike afford is styled * internal evidence of readings.'
A combination of the two methods is of far higher
value than either can possess alone, but the result of
their combined use may often be conflicting testimony,
and there is then a deadlock in the proceedings.
A second method must therefore be invoked : this
is called * internal evidence of documents ' ; its import-
ance is given in the dictum ^' knowledge of documents
should precede final judgment upon readings." * This
more complicated method involves a threefold process ;
instead of dealing with each variation separately, we
now in the first instance study as before the individual
variations, but, no longer deciding each case on its
own merits, we use the provisional results thus obtained
merely as materials wherewith to arrive at an estimate
of the characters of the rival documents taken as
^ It is interesting to note the early appearance of this principle in
Hort's review of Dr. Scrivener's edition of the Codex Augiensis, published
in ^^ Journal of Classical and Sacred Philology^ vol. iv. No. xii. x86o.
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 249
wholes ; then thirdly, armed with this knowledge, and
with any external information which we can procure
about the documents in question, we return to the indi-
vidual variants, and consider each in the light of the
characters of the documents, aided by the resources
of Intrinsic and Transcriptional Probability. This
method is capable of a further extension, inasmuch
as we may apply it to the study of the character of
groups of manuscripts, as well as of individual manu-
scripts, and, when so used, it is even more fruitful ;
it leads to a classification of documents based on
observance of their resemblances and differences.
But this is not all ; even the method of internal
evidence of documents is liable to delusions, due
principally to the fact that a manuscript is seldom, if
ever, homogeneous in character, so that we may be
misled by attributing as it were too great consistency
to it There is then in reserve yet a fourth method,
the elaboration of which is perhaps Hort's most
original contribution to the science of textual criticism —
this is the method of 'genealogical evidence.' The
principle of genealogy had indeed been applied to
manuscripts by previous scholars, but never so fully
developed. It is obvious that all the manuscripts of a
given work are descended from a common original ; if
it can be shown that the line of descent is single, i^,
that d has been copied from r, c from ^, and b from ^,
the critic's task is simple ; he has merely to reject all
manuscripts but ^, the earliest extant But, as a
matter of fact, most often the line of descent ramifies,
i,e. a manuscript has been copied from more than one
exemplar, and moreover there are gaps in the genealogy
due to the loss of manuscripts ; the extant testimony
is therefore afforded by manuscripts which stand as
250 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
representatives of various branches of the family tree.
The genealogical method is an advance on the method
of internal evidence of documents or groups of
documents, just as the latter is itself an advance
on the method of internal evidence of readings. By
the first method we take the variant readings in-
dividually; by the second we take them in series,
"each series being furnished by one of the several
documents in which they are found " ; by the genea-
logical method we take the documents themselves, not
individually, but in series, " examining them connectedly
as part of a single whole in virtue of their historical
relationships." Thus we arrive at another leading
principle — " all trustworthy restoration of corrupted texts
is founded on the study of their history." Manuscripts
belonging to the same branch of the family have a
family likeness ; these likenesses it is the business of
this method to characterise, and then to draw inferences
as to their history. If the lines of descent had never
crossed, this would be a fairly simple matter ; we
should only have to discover whether a given manuscript
belonged, say, to the * Western ' or * Alexandrian '
branch of the family, and to which ' generation,' so to
speak, it belonged. But this is unfortunately not the
case ; the ' Syrian recension ' mentioned above is only
one conspicuous example of a phenomenon everywhere
observable in the exceptionally wide field of New
Testament manuscripts. All extant New Testament
manuscripts contain what Hort calls ^ mixture,' though
this is due most often, not, as in the case of the ' Syrian
recension,' to deliberate editing, but to the use by
copyists of manuscripts of different types ; one manu-
script, e,g.y may contain readings of * Western ' and also
readings of * Alexandrian ' type, and as a matter of
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 251
fact no extant manuscript of the New Testament is
entirely free from 'mixture'; all exhibit, in a greater
or less degree, traces of * mixed ancestry.'
The textual method of Westcott and Hort is there-
fore based on a combination of various methods, and
its distinctive quality is that it is truly inductive ; by
the study of particulars it proceeds to general con-
clusions, and then applies these conclusions to the
settlement of individual cases. Its differences from
other methods more often employed are thus summarised
by Hort himself: *' Textual criticism fulfils its task
best, that is, is most likely to succeed ultimately in
distinguishing true readings from false, when it is
guided by a full and clear perception of all the classes
of phenomena which directly or indirectly supply any
kind of evidence, and when it regulates itself by such
definite methods as the several classes of phenomena
suggest when patiently and circumspectly studied.
This conformity to rationally framed or rather dis-
covered rules implies no disparagement of scholarship
and insight, for the employment of which there is
indeed full scope in various parts of the necessary
processes. It does but impose salutary restraints on
the arbitrary and impulsive caprice which has marred
the criticism of some of those whose scholarship and
insight have deservedly been held in the highest
honour."
The application of the methods thus described can
only be understood by reading the later parts of the
* Introduction.' It will not, however, be out of place to
quote once again the ' golden words,' as they have been
called, with which this part of the volume concludes : —
It only remains to express an eamest hope that, whatever
labour we have been allowed to contribute towards the
252 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
ascertainment of the truth of the letter, may also be allowed,
in ways which must for the most part be invisible to ourselves,
to contribute towards strengthening, correcting, and extending
human apprehension of the larger truth of the spirit Others
assuredly in due time will prosecute the task with better
resources of knowledge and skill, and amend the faults and
defects of our processes and results. To be &ithful to such
light as could be enjoyed in our own day was the utmost
that we could desire. How far we have &llen short of this
standard, we are well aware ; yet we are bold to say that none
of the shortcomings are due to lack of anxious and watchful
sincerity. An implicit confidence in all truth, a keen sense
of its variety, and a deliberate dread of shutting out truth as
yet unknown, are no security against some of the wandering
lights that are apt to beguile a critic ; but, in so far as they
are obeyed, they at least quench every inclination to guide
criticism into delivering such testimony as may be to the
supposed advantage of truth already inherited or acquired.
Critics of the Bible, if they have been taught by the Bible, are
unable to forget that the duty of guileless workmanship is
never superseded by any other. From Him who is at once
the supreme Fountain of truth and the all-wise Lord of its
uses, they have received both the materials of knowledge
and the means by which they are wrought into knowledge ;
into His hands, and His alone, when the working is over,
must they render back that which they have first and last
received.
A good illustration of Bert's wariness in handling
textual evidence is afforded by a correspondence in the
Times, in which he engaged in 1885, with reference to
the * Vienna Fragment,' a fragmentary papyrus, said to
be of the third century, discovered in the Fayum and
edited by Dr. Bickell of Innsbruck, and by him supposed
to belong to a Gospel narrative more primitive than
either of our two first Gospels. It contained, in a very
mutilated state, an account of St. Peter's predicted denial,
and words and expressions used in it were supposed to
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 253
point to an independent tradition. Dr. Bickell's views
were supported by the high authority of Hamack.
Hort wrote to the Times of June 25 th an appeal to its
readers not to prematurely accept Dr. Bickell's deduc-
tions, and to be yet more sceptical as to his emenda-
tions of the defective text, of which no exact facsimile
had yet been published. Hort's own hypothesis was
that the document contained a passage from some early
Christian writer, who '' had occasion to quote the words
of St Peter and his Master, and quoted them with free
condensation." He discussed briefly and incisively the
palaeographical and linguistic evidence adduced in sup-
port of Dr. Bickell's views, and concluded that "it
cannot be wise from evidence of this amount and this
nature to deduce far-reaching conclusions without full
consideration of other possible interpretations, less in-
teresting, no doubt, but better supported by the facts
already known." In his courteous reply Quly 3rd) Dr.
Bickell declared his unwillingness to "argue with so
great an authority, if technicalities of New Testament
criticism must be drawn into discussion," but he adduced
arguments against Hort's theory of a patristic quota-
tion, and defended his own conjectures. The Times of
July 1 6th contained a long rejoinder from Hort, in which
he carefully examines the passage ; and, by way of illus-
tration, cites Origen's use of the same Gospel incident.
It is indisputable that Origen used our Gospels, yet,
when he refers to St Peter's predicted denial, he omits
the same verses as the writer of the * fragment,' simply
because they are irrelevant to his purpose. The moral
is a grave warning against the dangers of the ' argu-
ment from omission,' which he handles as severely as
Lightfoot handled the argument from the 'silence of
Eusebius,' as presented by the author of Supernatural
254 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
Religion. " It would be easy," he says, " to snip out of
the works of Clement or Origen many a fragment which,
detached from its context, might plausibly be made to
lead to just such conclusions as have been drawn by
Dr. Bickell from the ' Vienna Fragment' " Then, after
a final caution about the interpretation of the palaeo-
graphical facts, he concludes with a general warnings
which is perhaps still a necessary antidote to the excite-
ment caused by the documentary discoveries of recent
years. " As regards the contents of the manuscripts,
interesting and important discoveries of various kinds
may reasonably be expected, but the historical inter-
pretation of materials so fragmentary is likely in many
cases to be beset with ambiguities which will task the
patience and circumspection of more than one genera-
tion of students."
In 1887 a letter in the Academy from the Bishop
of Salisbury (Dr. Wordsworth) called attention to the
problems of the famous manuscript of the Vulgate Bible
called the * Codex Amiatinus ' ; interest in it had been
reawakened by a tract of the Italian scholar De Rossi.
A correspondence followed, to which Hort contributed
three long letters ; in the first of these he was able,
from his stores of out-of-the-way learning, to supply
just the link which was wanting in the process of identi-
fication which De Rossi had supported by ingenious
conjecture. Much of the subsequent discussion turned
on minute points of palaeography, about which there
was controversy for more than two years. But to
understand the steps by which the book was identified,
and its history fixed with a remarkable degree of cer-
tainty, requires no special knowledge. The story affords
a happy and easily intelligible illustration of Hort's
methods of work. I am indebted for the following
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 255
summary statement to the kindness of the Rev. H. J.
White.^
The * Codex Amiatinus ' of the Latin Bible, according to St.
Jerome's version, is perhaps the most precious of the many
treasures stored in the Mediceo-Laurentian Library at Florence.
Its age, its vast size, and the beauty of its writing, combine to
impress the beholder, as Dr. Hort himself said, with a feeling
not far removed from awe, as he contemplates this *^ prodigy
of a manuscript" It presents, in addition, a singularly pure
text of the Vulgate translation, and was taken to Rome for
consultation during the Sixtine revision of the Bible.
The date of the Codex had been generally fixed by scholars
at the middle of the sixth century ; but it was Dr. Hort's learn-
ing which some few years ago, co-operated with that of a lead-
ing Italian scholar, De Rossi, in conclusively settling the date
at the b^inning of the eighth.
The date and origin of the MS. are indicated by some
dedicatory verses which are written on the reverse side of the
first leaf. At present the verses run as given below, but the
letters in italics are not by the original hand ; they are a sub-
stitute for other names, which, with the exception of two letters,
have been carefully erased.
ceMobium ad eximii merito | veneiabile sahfoioris
quern caput ecclesiie | dedicat alta fides
pttrus lattgobardorum \ extremis de finibus abbas
devoti affectus | pignora mitto mei
meque meosque optans | tanti inter gaudia patris
in caelis memorem | semper habere locum.
Thus Peter the Lombard Abbat, in presenting this Bible to
the Convent of Monte Amiata, has made use of the dedication
of an earlier donor, and just the words which would have told
us the original date and place of the Manuscript are lost. The
steps by which they have been recovered form an interesting
story.
The Italian scholar Bandini, who described the MS. in a
^ See a paper by Mr. White in the Oxford Studia Bihlica et EccU-
sias/ua, 2nd series.
256 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chai*.
catalogue at the end of the last century, proposed to emend
the first two lines —
culmen ad eximii merito | venerabile peiri,
which made the hexameter verse run smoothly, and fitted in
well with the expression caput tccleda^ the book being, accord-
ing to this supposition, a gift to S. Peter's at Rome. For the
name of the donor in the fifth line he proposed to read
servandus latii 1 extremis de fiziibus abbas,
as there is an inscription in the MS. at the beginning of the
book of Leviticus informing us that so far at any rate it had
been written by a scribe of the name of Servandus, who might
be identified with a Servandus, Abbat of a Benedictine Monas-
tery near Alatri, about the middle of the sixth century, or with
another Servandus later in the century, who was amongst the
correspondents of Gregory the Great
Scholars had, however, from time to time felt as an objection
to this view that it did not suit well with the handwriting of
the MS., which has the formal artificial character that belongs
rather to MSS. of the seventh and eighth centuries than to the
sixth; and in 1886 the Commendatore G. B. de Rossi pro-
posed a new emendation for the erased lines which would have
the effect of bringing the date of the MS. down to a period
that suited the palaeography better. In an able essay ^ he drew
attention to the account in Bede of the frequent journeys
to Rome made by Benedict Biscop and his successor Ceolfrid
firom their monasteries at Wearmouth and Jarrow. In these
they obtained large stores of Bibles, pictures, and church fur-
niture for their cloisters; and Ceolfrid himself died (in 716)
at Langres, whilst he was carrying in return to Rome some
presents to the See which had so generously enriched him and
England. " One of these presents," says Bede, " was a pandect
or complete Bible, according to the Vulgate version; which
after his death was taken on by some of his followers and
offered to the chair of S. Peter." Might not this, De Rossi
thought, be the actual Codex Amiatinus? Bearing Bede's
^ De Origine Historia Indicibus Scrinii et Bibliotheca Sedis Apostolus
Commentation J. B. de Rossi, Romse, 1886.
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 257
account in mind, and the fact that the expression extremis
de finibus in the dedication verses of the Codex would be
peculiarly suitable to the Mo divisos orbe Britannos^ he pro-
posed to emend the fifth line —
ctolfridus briionum \ extremis de finibus abbas.
This acute conjecture not only fitted in excellently with the
notice in Bede, and suggested a date in accord with the style
of the writing, but also suited well with the shape of the
erasures in the Dedication verses, which look as if an / and
an /had originally stood close to each other, while further it
accounted for the strong resemblance in /fjf/ between Amiatinus
and the important group of eighth and ninth century British
MSS., a resemblance which it seemed difficult to account for
on the early supposition of Amiatinus having been written in
Italy.
It remained now for Dr. Hort to do what he and he alone
seemed always able to do — to produce just the right piece of
evidence at the right time, and to convert De Rossi's " admir-
able conjecture " into certainty. In a letter to the Academy
(February 26th, 1887) he drew attention to the valuable little
tract known as the Anonymous Life of Ceoifrid, from which it
is known that Bede drew many of his details respecting Bene-
dict Biscop and Ceolfirid. This tract supplies the missing link.
One passage in it describes how Ceolfrid caused three Pandects
to be written, two of which he placed in his monasteries, ter-
tium autem Romam profecturus donum beato Petro apostolarum
principi offerre decrevit A second describes how, after his
death, some of the monks returned to England, others con-
tinued their journey to present their gifts to the Holy See,
in quibus videlicet muneribus erat Pandectes ut diximus^ inter-
pretatione beati Hieronymi presbyteri ex Hebraeo et Graecofonte
transfusus^ habens in capite scriptos huiusmodi versus : —
Corpus ad eximii merito venerabile Petri,
Defeat ecclesiae quern caput alta fides,
Ceolfridus, Anglorum extimis de finibus abbas,
Devoti aflfectus pignora mitto mei,
Meque meosque optans tanti inter gaudia patris,
In coelis memorem semper habere locum.
VOL. II S
258 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
These verses we see at once are those of the Codex Amid-
tinus ; for the transposition in the second line, and the extimis
for extremis in the third, are both probably slips made by the
author of the Anonymous Life, The first word, as a renewed
examination of the erasure shows, is more likely to have
been corpus than admen ; and the substitution of Ceolfridus
Anglorum for Ceolfridtis Britonum had been already con-
jecturally suggested by the present Bishop of Stepney (Dr.
Browne) and M. Samuel Berger of Paris.
And so the identification was complete, and the honours
of making it must be divided between De Rossi and Dr. Hort ;
the brilliant conjecture of the Italian being established by the
patient and profound learning of the English scholar.
In 1884 took place the celebration of the Ter-
centenary of the foundation of Emmanuel College.
Harvard, the daughter foundation, was represented by
the Hon. Eliot Norton, who was accompanied by J.
K Lowell. In the preparation for this festival Hort
took a very active part, and hoped that, if successful,
the commemoration would prove of good service to
the college. For some time previously he had helped
actively with the decoration of the college chapel. The
choice of the representative figures for the windows
was made after long and careful study of the lives of
the worthies represented. The services of the chapel
also owed much to his care. He endeavoured to make
the singing congregational ; his inquiries on the subject
drew a long series of letters from Mr. R. B. Litchfield.
On February 24th, 1889, he preached in the chapel a
sermon explaining the significance of the decorations,
afterwards printed with the title, 'The Growth of a
College into a Temple in the Universal Temple.* The
scheme of windows and panels described in this sermon
is an interesting one. Those to the eastward com-
memorate representative n^en in the development of
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 259
Christianity ; those to the west are memorials of mem-
bers of the college, " who by their aspirations and words
and deeds for their own day have shown themselves
worthy of the great heritage of the past" The central
position is given to representatives of the English
Reformation, to which the Puritan foundation of
Emmanuel College owed its origin. Further, those
commemorated on the north side are the 'men of
action,' those on the south the * men of contemplation.'
At the east end the two lines " end above in a double
form of apostolic words, in which they find their mutual
harmony and mutual necessity. We read there One Body^
one Spirit^ and those who look down upon us from
the northern windows have earned our veneration
pre-eminently by their service to the Body of Christ,
and they of the southern windows pre-eminently by
their service to the Spirit of Christ." The sentences
which follow on this text are extremely characteristic
of the writer's theology — " One Body^ one Spirit Each
implies the other. In the religious life of men the
Bible knows nothing of a spirit floating, as it were,
detached and unclothed. The operation of the Spirit
is in the life and harmony of the parts and particles of
the body in which, so to speak, it resides ; and conversely,
a society of men deserves the name of a body in the
Scripturar sense in proportion as it becomes a perfect
vehicle and instrument of the Spirit"
Some years later Hort was one day showing a party
of men from the London Working Men's College round
the chapel. Among them was a man who remembered
Maurice and knew Hort's name. He entered eagerly
into his guide's explanations. Hort's own shyness
disappeared, and he talked with a vivacity which was
rare with him on such occasions. Ordinarily his natural
26o FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chaf.
enthusiasm would have been reluctantly repressed
through the presence of strangers ; just now and again,
as on that day, a responsive listener enabled him to give
free play to his overflowing love of fellowship.
A few days after the Emmanuel festival Hort
attended the old Rugbeians' dinner. Three years
later a Rugbeian Lord Mayor gave a dinner at the
Mansion House to old Rugbeians, at which he was
also present
It will be remembered that some fifteen years back
he had criticised not very favourably the proposals of
a Church Reform Associatioa It is interesting there-
fore to notice the formulations of his own views in a
paper drawn up largely by him in November 1885.
This document was the result of several conferences at
Cambridge with Mr. Maine Walrond, Dr. Westcott,
Mr. A. T. Lyttelton, Professor Creighton, and Mr.
V. H. Stanton. Not the least valuable help received
by the Church Reform Committee was from Mr. Henry
Bradshaw. The Declaration issued by the Committee
was as follows : —
Proposed Declaration on Disestablishment and
DiSENDOWMENT OF THE ChURCH OF ENGLAND
We, the undersigned resident Members of the Senate of
the University of Cambridge, concurring generally in the
political legislation hitherto promoted by the Liberal party,
desire to express our deep regret at the suddenness with
which the question of the disestablishment and disendowment
of the Church of England has been forced upon electors and
candidates with a view to the present electioa We believe it
to be from every point of view inexpedient that resolutions
intended directly or indirectly to pledge the legislative action
of the House of Commons hereafter should be voted on in
the coming Parliament ; and not only inexpedient but highly
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 261
reprehensible that pledges to support such resolutions should
have been pressed on hesitating candidates, with the effect of
impairing the independence of their judgment at the time
when such resolutions may have to be accepted or rejected.
No graver or more complex issues, in their social no less than
their religious bearings, have ever been submitted to the
Parliament of this kingdom ; and it is imperatively demanded
by political morality and political expediency alike that such
issues shall not be decided without long and careful delibera-
tion, preceded by the collection, publication, and examination
of many classes of facts as yet very imperfectly known.
Feeling strongly that the worst hindrances to the formation
of a just and wise judgment are the passions and prejudices
which abound on either side, and which arise in great
measure from the mutual ignorance of large classes of our
countrymen, we desire that the ultimate decision of the
nation, whatsoever it may be, may at least be taken and
pronounced in the light of full knowledge, and dictated only
by conscience and reason.
In the meanwhile we wish to state publicly some of the
main reasons which lead us for our own part to deprecate
any considerable change in the present relations of Church
and State.
Believing firmly that no privileges can or ought to be
permanently maintained by the State, unless their mainte-
nance is more for the good of the community than their
abolition would be, we hold that the connexion of Church
and State completely fulfils this condition.
As the positive benefits to the nation, general and local,
due to the establishment and endowment of the Church of
England have been much dwelt upon of late, we think it
unnecessary to enumerate them here. Our desire is to offer
some considerations respecting the evils which establishment
and endowment are alleged to involve These fall mainly
under two heads, injustice to Nonconformists and injury to
the higher interests of the Church itself.
From a purely theoretical point of view the existing rela-
tions of Church and State are doubtless, under present cir-
cumstances, not free from anomaly. But this is in our
262 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
estimation a small matter beside the fundamental moral
anomaly that would be perpetrated by an ancient Christian
nation in abandoning the public recognition and maintenance
of its faith, and beside the positive benefits to which we have
already referred. Nor can it justly be said that the present
theoretical anomaly is accompanied by great practical evils
which can only be cured by its extinction. Any loss to the
Church, under such proposals for disestablishment and dis-
endowment as are now current, would be a loss to the
purposes of religion altogether. Our plea is not against
Nonconformists, but on behalf of the Church, and on behalf
of the Church only as the primary spiritual organ of the
nation.
We are by no means inclined to speak slightingly of
grievances which have perhaps had the largest share in
creating a prejudice against the position of the Church.
Nonconformists have unhappily much to forgive. But we
cannot allow that the present relations of Church and State
ought to any large extent to bear the blame. Memories and
habits dating from times when Nonconformity was subject to
civil and even religious disabilities have on both sides shown
a deplorable vitality. In so far as these evil results of earlier
circumstances are kept alive by circumstances still existing,
the responsibility cannot justly be laid on any privileges or
possessions which Parliament can take away. No power
whatever can create equality between such a body as the
Church of England, independently of all connexion with the
State, and the several bodies which have arisen out of it
during the last three centuries. It is, we are convinced, no
paradox to say that one effect of establishment and endow-
ment is on the whole to soften and moderate any social or
other hindrances to concord and good-will that may spring
from differences beyond the reach of legislation. Disestab-
lishment and disendowment would inevitably give an impetus
to all the forces within the Church which tend towards active
antagonism to other communities, and towards increased
accentuation of religious and ecclesiastical differences.
Within the last few years various causes have led to a happy
growth of mutual acquaintance and appreciation between
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 263
Churchmen and Nonconformists, as residents in our Uni-
versity have good means of knowing; and it is to such
agencies as these that we look for furtiier progress towards
a better state of things.
The allied injurious effects of establishment and endow-
ment upon the higher interests of the Church itself are, we
believe, partly imaginary, partly due to impediments caused
by a state of things which has insensibly arisen, and which
may be effectually amended, we venture to hope, if the
attempt is made with seriousness and good-will. It would
doubtless be otherwise if the work of the Church and its
ministers in its religious and ecclesiastical aspects were in-
consistent with their work in its national aspect ; nay, if the
one were not to a great extent coincident with the other.
Again it would be otherwise if the nation itself should cease
to be predominantly Christian, or if the authorities of the
State should take up and persistently follow a policy of
hostility or vexatious injustice towards the religious or
ecclesiastical interests of the Church. Of the former con-
tingency we need say nothing. Of the latter no serious
danger need, we trus^ be apprehended in the near future;
in the remoter future sufficient security will, in our judgment,
be provided if the present opportunity for accomplishing
necessary reforms in the Church is not thrown away. The
Church suffers both in efficiency and in popular estimation
by the difficulties which impede the rectification of various
chronic abuses without fresh legislation. But above all it
suffers by the practical exclusion of its laity from definite
powers and responsibilities. In former days Parliament
represented in Church matters not only the State but also
in a manner the laity of the Church. As now constituted,
it can no longer discharge properly the duties of the latter
office; and indeed the multiplication of Parliamentary busi-
ness now leaves it little time for such affairs. Facilities
might, we believe, be safely and advantageously given to the
Church for virtually independent administration and legisla-
tion, provided that lay Churchmen were invested with a
large measure of responsibility and power in its local and
general government Such a working constitution would in
264 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
effect be national, because Churchmen exhibit among them-
selves in abundant variety all the average instincts and wa3rs
of Englishmen. Any risk of misuse of these powers for
purposes at variance with national interests would, moreover,
be obviated by the ultimate or reserved control which Par-
liament would retain as still representing the State. The
renewal of healthy life promoted by such measures as these
would, we are convinced, be found a potent remedy for many
of the evils that affect the Church, and through the Church
the nation, where the coarse surgery of destructive measures
must inevitably fail.
Lastly, we desire to express our earnest conviction that the
influence which connexion with the State exercises on the
religion taught and practised by the Church and its ministers
is not injurious, but in a high degree salutary. It is a power-
ful antidote to the inclination to confine religion within the
limits of individual emotion or belief, and keeps up a sense of
the intimate relations between the Christian faith and character
on the one hand and all human interests and social duties on
the other. If it were removed, the ideals of religion prevalent
in England would assuredly be lowered and impoverished,
not in the Church only but in other communions likewise.
There would, moreover, be great reason to fear lest by the
natural operation of ineradicable causes a deep antagonism
should arise between the Church and the State, which would
be equally calamitous to both, and would fill the whole land
with discord. We cannot affect to overlook the wide cur-
rency of theories which aim at a complete separation of the
religious and the secular spheres in public matters. Believing
that the separation can never be really effected, and that
much evil and misery must be caused by the attempt to
bring it about, we recognise with thankfulness the growth of
other strong currents of thought and feeling which flow in an
opposite direction. Much wisdom and much charity are
doubtless needed for dealing with the problems of Church
and State which this generation is called to solve. But we
have faith that, if these are not wanting on the part of our
rulers in Church and State, and of the other hardly less
responsible leaders of opinion, our countrymen will, like their
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 265
forefathers, discover trustworthy ways of adapting old institu-
tions to new necessities, and follow with a good conscience
the conviction of the truest patriots of all ages, that it is
better to build than to destroy.
This was the last work in which Hort was associated
with his friend Bradshaw, whose death in February
1886 left a blank in his circle of Cambridge friends
which no one could fill. The shock and sorrow of
this loss affected him more perhaps than the loss of
any other friend. He himself was not well at the
time, and he caught a severe chill at Bradshaw's
funeral, which brought on an attack of illness, and in
March he paid the first of several visits to Sir Andrew
Clark. At Easter he made a long-projected journey to
Florence with his wife, and saw also Bologna, Ravenna,
Siena, Pisa, Lucca. At Florence, though he considered
the place, comparatively speaking, too modem to
interest him fully, he worked at sight-seeing with
an energy which sometimes alarmed his fellow-traveller.
He had never been so far south in Italy before, and all
was new to him, yet all was familiar, since in his
vivid imagination places of historical interest had often
been almost before his eyes before he visited them,
making double the pleasure of the actual visit A
foreign tour he generally planned out weeks before-
hand ; many a weary term of overwork was lightened
by the pleasure of keen anticipation, and by dipping
at odd moments into a variety of guide-books. His
enthusiasm for seeing things seemed to grow as life
went on. Most of all this tour he revelled in Ravenna.
Here, as elsewhere, he collected a very large number
of photographs : on his return from a holiday his
evening recreation, when, as too seldom happened, he
266 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
stole half an hour from work before bed-time, was to
arrange these photographs ready to be mounted in
books, and afterwards to write an exact description
under each. This involved consulting a huge pile of
books, which was to him the real pleasure of the task.
In earlier years his evening finger- work was to arrange,
describe, and * poison ' the thousands of botanical speci-
mens which he had collected in England and the Alps.
Photography, the recreation of one of his earliest Alpine
tours, he took up again some time after his return to
Cambridge, and a small camera became his constant
companion in holiday time. He developed all his own
negatives with results which seldom satisfied his fas-
tidious taste, and he would never pass a print unless it
was the best obtainable. He never had time to pursue
this hobby as thoroughly as he would have wished, but,
when he was absorbed in * developing,' his evening
amusement sometimes encroached on his night's rest
In all his later Italian tours he was accompanied by
his wife : she was with him in by far the greater num-
ber also of his Swiss summers, though occasionally
family exigencies required that he should go alone. To
such lonely outings he submitted as to a necessity, but
his enjoyment was always tempered with a longing for
home, which daily correspondence by post did not satisfy.
The best part of the summer of 1887, when health
required that he should be in the high Alps, he spent
with his wife and their old friend Miss Blunt at the
Montanvert. His Alpine enterprises were now confined
to short walks and botanising ; his last real glacier
expedition had been taken at Saas-F6e two years before.
He deeply regretted missing the commemoration of the
Queen's Jubilee : from a distance he followed the doings
of June 1887 at home with enthusiastic interest He
IX CAMBRroGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 267
wished the Cambridge town memorial of the Jubilee to
take the form of an endowment of the Perse schools.
He put down on paper the following thoughts on the
Church House Scheme, apparently meaning to send
them to the Times or Guardian, I cannot be sure
that the sentences which follow give his opinions in a
form which finally satisfied himself, or even that the
letter is complete, but it will serve to indicate his position
with regard to questions of Church organisation : —
You have printed some unanswerable letters on behalf of
the Church House. But, though unanswerable, they are not
convincing. The scheme is apparently doomed to failure,
unless it touches the imagination of Churchmen, and this is
what it has as yet been unable to do. The most invaluable
pile of aggregated committee rooms is not an object for which
enthusiasm can possibly be excited. It may be an excellent
thing to provide, but it will not bear glorifying : the incon-
gruity thus introduced has a faint savour of vulgarity, and this
is one reason why so many shrink back.
The remedy lies in a bold enlargement of the scheme.
Let the year of the Queen's Jubilee become a memorable
epoch in the history of the living Church by the constitution
of a worthy central assembly, and the bricks and mortar will
not long be wanting to raise for its outward sign and place of
habitation a worthy edifice, in which subordinate societies and
committees may likewise find a lodging. Convocation in its
present form will not serve the purpose at alL The laity are
well aware that to invest it with a new and conspicuous
dignity, so long as it remains purely clerical, is only to sow
the seeds of convulsion and disruption for no distant period.
Your correspondents have already pointed to the antici-
pated fusion of the southern and northern convocations. This
fusion is undoubtedly necessary, but it will not be an unmixed
gain if the laity continue to be excluded : at all events it will
not add sufficient weight to the appeal for a Church House.
The new House of Laymen is another step in the right
direction, but it is a very little one. First, the House of
268 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
Laymen has no powers. It can tender advice, but it has none
of the responsibilities of action. While it occupies this sub-
sidiary position, no wide or deep interest will be taken in the
election of its members; the laity of the church cannot
recognize it as in any true sense tiieir representative organ.
Secondly, the House of Laymen sits by itself. There are
many reasons why the clergy and laity of a reformed con-
vocation should vote separately ; but it is difficult to find any
reason why they should debate separately. In a mixed
assembly they would come to know each other and under-
stand each other, to instruct and to correct each other. In
separate assemblies there would be a constant hardening and
intensification of all clerical faults and prejudices on the one
side, and of all laical faults and prejudices on the other.
There is indeed one condition on which these results might
be escaped — ^that is, if the House of Laymen consisted chiefly
of * clerically-minded ' laymen, but that is not a success which
could commend itself to those who see how grievously the
Church of England is strained and imperilled by the want of
a trusted and comprehensive Convocation.
If rash and impracticable schemes are afloat, there is the
more reason why those whose position enables them to initiate
action should do their best to mature and introduce a wise
scheme without further delay ; there are times when prudence
may be more insane even than imprudence. Two precautions
in particular are indispensable. Care must be taken that
nothing is attempted which would conflict with the ultimate
and reserved authority of the Legislature. Care must equally
be taken that the clergy are not swamped by the laity. If the
thing cannot be done, and that under these conditions, then,
be the activities at work within the Church of England what
they may, the day of dissolution, a woeful day for England,
cannot be far ofil
In a word, if Convocation remains unreformed in these
respects, the building of a Church House would be in effect
a consecration of our worst shortcomings. It rests with the
authorities in Church and State to say whether it shall rise as
a memorial of renewed life in a renewed organisation. But
the days are passing quickly.
IX CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 269
In October 1887 the Lady Margaret's Readership
in Divinity fell vacant by the death of Dr. Swainson,
the Master of Christ's College. Hort had declined to
stand for it at the last vacancy in 1879, but now he felt
called to come forward Dr. Luckock (now Dean of
Lichfield) stood against him, but afterwards withdrew,
and he was spared an actual contest, a thing which was
to him specially abhorrent When a contest was
expected, he issued the following address to the
electors : —
I b^ leave to offer myself to the Electors as a candidate
for the Lady Margaret's Professorship of Divinity, now vacant
by the lamented death of Dr. Swainson.
From my first entrance at the University I have been a
student of Theology, and it has been the chief object of my
study from the time when I became a Master of Arts. For
fifteen years I had the charge of a country parish, and for
above fifteen years more I have been residing at Cambridge
and lecturing on theological subjects, chiefly on the Apostolic
Epistles and on selected writings of the Fathers. In any
future work which I may be permitted to carry on here, either
as a student or as an instructor and helper of younger students,
it would be my desire, as before, to be mainly occupied with
the interpretation and elucidation of the Bible, in constant
reference to its theological teaching, and with the history of
the Church, for the earlier centuries in particular, giving
special attention to the history of doctrine and institutions.
The experience of the nine years during which I have
occupied the Hulsean Chair has given me a yet deeper sense
than before of the responsibilities of a Cambridge Professor
of Divinity, responsibilities at once enlarged and lightened by
the zeal of life and earnestness of enquiry which are happily
increasing on every side. It is therefore not without misgivings
that I have now decided to offer myself for a post which, with
the higher vantage-ground conferred by its illustrious traditions,
would bring some increase of these responsibilities. I can but
say that, if the Electors' choice should fall on me, I shall
270 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
welcome their confidence as a fresh incentive to serve the
University and the Church with unstinted devotion.
On October 26th he was unanimously elected to the
post, which he held till the day of his death. It was a
great satisfaction to him, and to many others, over-
whelmingly as he felt the increased responsibility. The
announcement of his election to Dr. A. S. Farrar's
theology class at Durham was received, wrote Dr.
Farrar, with " something like a cheer."
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Cambridge, December iSM, 1878.
My dear Ellerton — ^A hasty line to let you know that they
have made me Hulsean Professor. I look forward to it with
some sense of trepidation and heaviness, and no sense of
elation, rather the reverse. But it seemed on the whole
right to stand ; and if so, I suppose it ought to be well to be
elected It was a unanimous election, with previous discussion,
but no voting.
We have been thinking much of you and dear Mrs. Eller-
ton since we saw the announcement ^ in the Guardian. Our
own recollections are still fresh. — Ever affectionately yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To HIS Sister, Mrs. Garnons Williams
Cambridge, Christmas Eve^ 1878.
My dearest Kate — One line of Christmas greetings I must
send to you and Garnons on behalf of us both, with a big
extra greeting to and for dear Arthur,* whose ordination as an
actual event we saw in the Times this morning. We thought
of you much when you were at Worcester, and trust that all
went well. \
^ Of a domestic loss. ' His sister's eldest son.
AGB 50 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 271
Thank you much for your note. I do not imagine that
there will be any considerable increase of direct work, but
there is no denying that the weight of responsibility is con-
siderably increased, and this I feel a good deal, having perhaps
less self-confidence as well as more years than formerly. Many
things of former days are indeed brought back, the summer of
1866 among them, when I first stood for a Professorship in
the midst of those sad days. To-day's post has brought a kind
letter from Mr. Cams, to whom my father brought me for
introduction when I first came to Cambridge, so that it makes
a pleasant link with the beginnings of Cambridge life.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
2 Onslow Sqv AKEj/anuaty 27M, 1879.
My dear Westcott — We shall both shortly, I suspect,
receive the decision,^ and there can be little doubt as to its
nature. . . . The service [at St Paul's], as you can imagine, was
full of suggestions. After it was over I thought it right to ask
to go in again for another word. I went to say that I felt
bound to help to a decision, and, if possible (which was
instantly, however, set aside), on St. Paul's Day. My former
thoughts were unchanged, but, as things now stood, it seemed
to me no longer right to attempt to weigh conflicting ex-
pediencies, and I could only say that as a personal matter it
was for him right to accept He declined, however, to make
a decision till late yesterday, with a view to writing this
morning. , But I do not think that anything was now with-
holding him except an intense shrinking from the weight and
difficulty of the charge This, with the service, seemed to
make my course clear. Yesterday Mrs. Hort, Ellen, and I
went to the afternoon service, when he preached (an old
sermon, he told me before, but evidently chosen out) on o^m
6 dryravpiiiav cairn^ ic.r.X. I had no Opportunity of speaking.
He was evidently much worn.
^ f.^. Dr. Lightfoot's decision as to accepting the Bishopric of
Durham.
272 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
6 St. Peter's Terrace, March yrd^ 1879.
. . . No doubt Mamma mentioned to you the death, or
supposed death, of our cousin Nevill CoghiU, Sir Joscelyn
Coghill's eldest son, at the battle of Isandula in the Zulu war.
Possibly you may not since have heard that all doubt is now
at an end. It seems that he and another officer succeeded in
cutting their way through the hosts of Zulus and carrying ofT
safe the colours of the 24th Regiment ; but subsequently
they must either have been overtaken, or, more probably,
have died of their wounds, for their bodies were found at a
considerable distance, along with the colours which they had
so gallantly preserved from capture. Very little, however, is
known as yet about the circumstances of the battle.
To HIS ELDEST SON
(On his Confinnation)
Cambridge, March i6/hy 1879.
My dear Arthur — The service must now be going on at
Marlborough. Perhaps by this time the Bishop^s hands have
been laid on your head As I cannot be with you in person,
I should like to send you a few lines written now, that may
come into your hands to-morrow after Mamma has gone, and
you have returned into the midst of daily school life. I have
just been reading over the service in a prayer-book which I
bought about the time when I was myself confirmed, and
thinking over the many failures and misdoings which can be
traced to neglect of the help that was then promised and
given.
The first thought that I would press upon you is that Con-
firmation is not the laying of a burden upon you. In so fer
as it has anything to do with burdens, it simply reminds you
of a burden which is already there, and then gives you strength
to bear it. But what is the burden? Simply the respon-
sibility of a human being, a child of God, endowed with reason
AGB 50 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 273
and conscience and affection that you may do the work of
God, and in doing it grow more and more like to Himself,
inheriting from your ancestors a constant liability to fall into
evil, yet redeemed to good at an unspeakably costly price, and
daily breathed upon by an invisible Power of good. Such is
the making and state of man. You cannot change it if you
would. You were bom into the world under these conditions,
and to struggle against them is to struggle against imalterable
fact. But it is only when we do struggle against it that it is
painful and unwelcome fact. In itself it is all glory and all
blessing.
You were not only bom into the world of men. You were
also bom of Christian parents in a Christian land. While yet
an infant you were claimed for God by being made in Baptism
an unconscious member of His Church, the great Divine
Society which has lived on unceasingly from the Apostles'
time till now. You have been surrounded by Christian
influences ; taught to lift up your eyes to the Father in heaven
as your own Father ; to feel yourself in a wonderful sense a
member or part of Christ, united to Him by strange invisible
bonds ; to know that you have as your birthright a share in
the kingdom of heaven, the world of invisible laws by which
God is mling and blessing His creatures. This is the privilege
of a Christian, to know assuredly and clearly the facts which
relate to all men ; to be conscious of God as Him in whom
you live and move and have your being, though a veil that
hides Him still rests on the eyes of those to whom the Gospel
of His Son has not been made known.
These influences, and the facts from which they proceed,
have been around you and within you from infancy. At flrst
you knew nothing about them, though they were acting upon
you in so far as you did not give way to the evil impulses that
beset even a young child. By degrees they have been coming
more and more within your notice. Now you are called upon
to recognise them entirely, to embrace them with a hearty
welcome, and give God thanks for them, to live henceforth
with the recognition of them as the flrst and last mle of your
thoughts, words, and actions. This is what is meant by
confirming the vow made in your name.
VOL. II T
274 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
But what you can receive is far more than you can give.
It is much to confirm that early declaration of your true
standing; it is much more to expect and ask and receive
confirmation from God. The very name Confirmation
reminds us how large a part of our misdeeds comes simply
from weakness, negligent and guilty weakness. It repeats the
command, " Be strong and of a good courage," with the addi-
tion, " Be strong (strengthened, ivBvvafjLova-Oe) in the Lord and
in the power of His might," and gives warning that no part of
God*s armour can be safely neglected in our daily battle.
You are reminded of temptations from three sources : from
the evil customs and opinions of the people who surround you ;
from lawless indulgence of bodily cravings and desires ; and
from the spirit of evil, whispering pride and scorn and jealousy
and hatred into your inner self. The means given you for
turning all temptations into occasions of firmer and riper life
is the recollection Whose you are and Whom you serve, and
entire grasping at His love and help in prayer.
Let the touch of the good old Bishop's hands upon your
head dwell always in your memory as a sign of the Hands of
blessing which are ever being laid upon your head out of
heaven. Let nothing ever make you doubt or forget your
heavenly Father's love and desire of your good, or dream that
He can ever cease His patient working in and for you and all
His children. Remember that you are called to share His
work, and that everything which makes you useless, not to say
mischievous, to others, makes you unworthy of that for which
He created you. May His inexhaustible blessing be upon you
always, my dearest boy, and make to^iay only the entrance
into a life-long and constantly renewed Confirmation. — Ever
your most loving father, R J. A. Hort.
To HIS ELDEST SON
Cambridge, May 30M, 1879.
... I do not wonder that you feel the pressure of the
approaching examination. But you must try to think as
little about the examination itself, and about any special
AGE 51 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 275
preparation for it, as possible; and do your best to go on
steadily and naturally and quietly, striving only to do your
duty and grow in sound and honest knowledge, trusting
to the examination to do justice to your real merits, whatever
they may be.
To HIS ELDEST SON
(On his failure in^the Competition mentioned in the last letter)
Settle, /«w 15/A, 1879.
My dear Boy — On reaching home yesterday evening, we
found your telegram. I will not say it brought no tinge of
disappointment, for it was impossible not to have hopes before-
hand. But we had taken care not to set our minds on your
success ; and so our worst disappointment is for your mortifica-
tion, my poor fellow ! However that too is lightened by the
strong feeling that, if it had been right for you to succeed, you
would have succeeded ; and that the failure is itself a blessing,
if you learn to use it as such. Whether you have worked your
best, and then been honourably beaten, or have taken things
easier than it was right to do, I do not know, and am content
not to know. What I do know is that tn either case failure
brings with it true gain. It is obviously well to suffer for re-
missness, if there has been remissness ; and if there has been
none, it is still well to be brought low, and taught to bear
patiently and cheerfully what it is not easy for flesh and blood
to bear. Success and failure are both good gifts of the good
God
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, y«i^ 20M, 1879.
... I do not see that there is any reason why the
congratulation ^ should involve ratification of Reuss' opinions ;
and if so it does not seem to me a bad thing to break
through the insularity of our Universities, which we all
believe to have done so much harm both to us and to the
Continent Every first step of any kind is liable to be mis-
^ A congratulatory address to Dr. Reuss of Strasburg on his 'Jubilee.'
276 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
understood ; and the only question is whether the gain out-
weighs the chance of misunderstanding. In this case it does,
as far as I can judge ; and therefore I should prefer not to
refuse the proffered opportunity unless some of us have a
definite feeling that we ought to abstain. — Ever affectionately
yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
CAMBRmcE, November 9/^, 1879.
. . . Our thoughts this week have been very much taken
up with Professor Maxwell. For some little time past his
state had been quite hopeless, and the end came on Wednesday,
about noon, the noon of a bright and clear day. He was
one of the greatest men living, and, I believe it is not too
much to say, one of the best ; his rare powers being united
to a high type of pure and simple Christian character.
There is no one who can take his place here. He is by
his own desire to be buried at his home in Scotland ; but
I am glad to say there is to be a service at Trinity Chapel
to-morrow evening before the body leaves Cambridge, and
doubtless most of the older members of the University will be
present.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Cambridge, November 18M and 19/A, 1879.
. . . Better elements do seem to be forming in Oxford,
though slowly and obscurely, and it is impossible not to hope
that they will spread in due time. But meanwhile one is
always hearing of the havoc wrought by the sharp division
into two camps. Moderate men complain that those who
remain Christians are swept off into the Romanising current,
and the rest are carried by the other stream into bitter and
violent unbelief. A distinguished Balliol man spoke strongly
to this effect to a friend of mine this summer, lamenting
especially the way in which men, who in another atmosphere
would have remained Christians and taken orders, are so
repelled by the stifling Romanising, which is the only vigorous
AGE 51 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 277
form of Christianity within their sight, that they recklessly fling
aside all faith and join the other ranks. Along with this there
is a contempt for those who remain Christians as either fools
or hypocrites, which is found terribly infectious and powerful.
Nor is the present miscalled Classical curriculum guiltless, in
its encouragement of fine writing on philosophical subjects.
The complaint made by Mark Pattison some years ago was
strangely echoed in another saying of the Balliol man which
was lately reported to me, " What would I give to have Lightfoot
and Westcott at Oxford ! And yet no, for they would not find the
material to work on ; they can only speak to patient workers,
while we have only brilliant talkers." Of course this is an
exaggeration, especially perhaps as r^ards Balliol, which has a
very composite body ; but I am afraid it describes truly the
prevailing atmosphere of the place. Here, though the same
elements (or nearly so) probably exist, they are in different
proportions and relative activity. The studies of the place
discourage, instead of fostering, youthful 'sophistic'; the number
of leading men who are known to be conscientious Christians
makes contempt of Christian faith a trifle ridiculous; and the way
in which Churchmen of all opinions, both graduates and under-
graduates, are accustomed to meet and work together not only
keeps party-spirit in check, but gives power to the life of the whole
body. In this and other respects we have no sharply-defined
camps, and consequently no need of prematurely closing the
mind against growth in knowledge and experience.
To Dr. Ezra Abbott
The Storrs, Ingleton, Carnforth,
Au^^ust 5M, 1879.
My dear Dr. Abbott — Forgive the lateness of these de-
sultory jottings on your sheets.^ It has not been possible to
do more than read the sheets rapidly, and note down a few
salient points that did not require lengthened examination.
The whole article, I need hardly say, I found most interesting ;
^ The sheets were probahly those of some part of Dr. Abbott's TAe
Auth^ship of the Fourth Gospel^ and other Critical Essays, published in
1888 (Boston, U.S.A.)
278 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
and, moreover, the method pursued in the earlier sheets appears
to me sound as far as it goes.
On the larger questions little could now be said with advan-
tage. I will only express a wish that you had given a full and
separate discussion of the supposition that each Synoptist (at
once editor and author) augmented and modified the common
tradition (written or oral) by knowledge independent of it,
derived partly at least from eye-witnesses. There is, as far as
I see, no antecedent historical difficulty in supposing such
processes to have taken place, or the information introduced
by them to be at least as authentic as that of the earliest form
of the common tradition. Priority goes for little if all is
approximately contemporary. The question is whether examina-
tion of the existing books supports best this view, or that which
treats the re-edited matter as alone approximately authentic.
As regards the Fourth Gospel, what seem to me its actual
characteristics, apart from their origin, I cannot recognise in
your account. One word about Philo, though I think that
the importance of his relation to the Foiuth Gospel is easily
overrated on both sides. While the presence of influences
derived from his writings would not have seemed to me his-
torically at all surprising, supposing St John to be the author,
and though I rather assumed their existence till I read Philo
for myself, I now much doubt their existence. But were it
otherwise, the step would still be enormous to inverting the
process of Philo; not dissolving records of facts into philo-
sophemes, but gratuitously, and to his readers unintelligibly,
translating philosophemes into fictitious facts, and those in
great part mere trivial accessories of important narratives, that
even as fictions would require a totally different explanation.
But, indeed, the discourses seem to me to have the ring of
solid fact even more than the narratives. — Believe me, very
truly yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Cambridge, February 13/^, 1880.
. . . We went by rail to Battle, about seven miles, and
walked about a good deal. We had been reading Mr.
AGE 51 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 279
Freeman's account of the campaign containing the great
battle in the evenings, and so were pretty well up in the
local details. The way up from the station into the town was
just the line along which the Normans pressed up towards
Harold's standard in the early part of the battle. We went
through the length of the town and out on the road up the
hill behind, from which we could see pretty well the peculiar
position of the hill of Senlac, on which the English army was
posted. Then we went back to the church, which dates from
the twelfth century. By that time it was twelve o'clock, and
the Abbey accessible ; so we rang at the great gate, a very fine
piece of work of Edward III.'s time. We crossed the open
ground to a terrace, from which the site of nearly all the line
of the Norman attack was visible. We were not able to see
the interior, as the Duke was at home ; but a guide took us
about the grounds, where there are some considerable ruins,
and at last to the place where the foundations of the east end
of the Abbey Church have been excavated, a little east of the
point where Harold fell.
To HIS ELDEST SON
Cambridge, March 6thf 1880.
. . . We were greatly pleased — don't be too unforgiving ! —
to hear of your selection for reading in chapel, and greatly
wish we could have been there (unknown to you, of course)
on the first occasion. I was a few months younger than
you are when I first had to read in chapel; so that I can
entirely sympathize with your nervousness about it; nay,
to this day the same nervousness sometimes returns. The
secret of all good reading is, first to forget oneself entirely,
casting out equally all vanity and love of display and all
fidgettiness about one's own defects in reading ; and next to
sink oneself entirely in what one is reading, not forgetting the
hearers, but striving to let them lose nothing of what is read.
All this applies with especial force to public reading of the
Bible, which ought to be at once dignified, quiet, and intelli-
gent ; dignified, as is worthy of high, serious, and terse matter ;
28o FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
quiet, because afTectation is specially odious at such a time,
and even without affectation an exaggeration of point destroys
the balance and general effect of the whole ; and yet always
intelligent, marking by slight shades of voice the important
words and phrases, not so much by thinking expressly about
them one by one, as by filling one's mind with the matter, and
then letting the voice express the mind. To make sure of
this, it is well to read the lesson over two or three times before-
hand by oneself, once if possible aloud. Otherwise, in the
midst of reading even quite familiar passages, one is apt to
stumble suddenly upon sentences in which one cannot quickly
enough seize the point, and therefore is driven to read in a
wooden or even in a wrong manner. Most of all should one
keep constantly the feeling that the lesson read is addressed
to oneself first of all, and that one ought to be in a very
especial manner receiving in the act of giving. At such a
time words come home with a quite unusual light and force^
if only there is a true desire and openness and prayer to receive
them.
To HIS ELDEST SON
CAyi-BRiDGE^/um 26tky 1 88a
My dear Arthur — I do not at all see why you should be
set up to speechify ^ on whatever side other people do not
want to take. There is one good in it ; it leads you to see
what there is to be said on both sides of a question, and
especially on the unpopular side. But it needs care to prevent
its turning into a mere habit of unreal advocacy, without any
personal feeling or opinion behind it.
. To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Jerusalem Chamber, /t/(^ ^h, 1880.
My dear Westcott — ^The Delhi letters are very important
and interesting, the Bishop's in particular. It is apparently
his judgement that our men would be accepted by Delhi for
^ In a school Debating Society.
AGE 52 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 281
the College if they offered themselves, — that they are compe-
tent for the task, — and that as yet the opportmiity has not
passed. If this indeed is so, my feeling would be in favour of
sacrificing everything else to the attempt. A little Christian
University at Delhi, welcomed by Delhi as filling a felt gap,
affords a leverage that may be of priceless value. It would
be more than a realisation of oiu: original idea. The previous
application to our men is a most striking fact
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, August y>thj 1880.
. . . Have you seen Weiss' Leben Jesu / I am constantly
r^etting not having taken it abroad. It will, I suspect, prove
to be an invaluable step^ perhaps, however, not more.
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Cambridge, November Tjoth, 1880.
... I think the chirf event of late has been the visit
of the Bishop of Long Island and Mrs. Littlejohn, who
have been staying with Dr. and Mrs. Swainsoa He is one
of the leading American bishops, and a great preacher;
and he has preached the University Sermon for the last
three Sundays. The last two were more than an hour
and a quarter long. Yesterday evening we had the Bishop
and his wife to dine with us, and were fortunate enough to
have Bishop Lightfoot also. The University Commissioners
are holding their sittings just now at the Divinity School, and
he is in Cambridge in order to take part in them. Another
of the Commissioners is the Bishop of Worcester ; so that we
had three bishops together in St Mary's on Sunday. It was
particularly pleasant to have Bishop Lightfoot among us again.
It is hardly necessary to say that he was his own good and
dear self. On Saturday Mamma and I dined at No. 4,^ to
meet him quite quietly, and very pleasant it was.
^ Dr. Luard's.
282 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, nc
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
Cambridge, December loth^ 1880.
. . . There is, I suppose, a considerable chance that it will
be the last letter that I shall have to write to you before
you come home for good Foolish people will, I daresay,
talk about your education being finished You know better
than that, and would, I am sure, be sincerely sorry if it
were true. It is a bad state of things when education
does not go on all through life, if only to keep up the
sense of ignorance. But even in the narrower sense of the
word I trust that you have still much education before you.
That does not, however, destroy the greatness of the change
when education away from home comes to an end, and the
time arrives for looking back on the school period, and con-
sidering how opportunities have been used, — ^and past trials
too, for it is by their discipline that the as yet unseen trials of
the new time will have to be encountered, and with God's
grace in their turn rightly used.
I forgot to mention last time I wrote that just as you are
leaving the Cheltenham Ladies' College I am joining it That
is, I have been asked to become an Honorary Member of the
College, as it is called, that is to be one of those by whom the
Council is chosen, and who on rare occasions have to take a
certain part in deciding questions about its management Now
that you are going away from Cheltenham, I am not sorry to
have this fresh tie to it. It fills a large place in the recollec-
tions of my own early life, and in what I know of Grandpapa's ;
and it must always be a sacred place to me, as the graves of
my Grandmama and of my brother and sister are under Trinity
Church.
To HIS ELDEST SON
Cambridge, May 21s/, 1881.
. . . Dr. Westcott and I agreed that he should send the
Greek text to his godson, and I to mine. That was the
history of your not receiving your copy from me. It is
indeed a great relief that it appeared before the Revised
AGE 53 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 283
Version; but I shall have no peace of mind till the other
volume is off my hands too, and at present lectures and
University business often keep me from touching it for several
days together. Some time or other I must tell you more
about it than I have ever yet done.
This week the publication of the Revised Version has been
the event The University Presses have been and still are
strained to their utmost power to bring out fresh supplies of
copies ; and in spite of all the long preparations they will, I
am afraid, hardly be able to keep pace with the demand. I
have seen as yet very few of the criticisms in the newspapers ;
those which I have seen have not shown much discrimination,
and in fact have done little more than repeat what we have
been for the last ten years saying to each other would certainly
be the remarks. In due time no doubt criticisms of greater
value will appear; but it was hardly possible that anything
worth saying could be said on the strength of the reading of
a few hours or even minutes. After all, the talk is of very
little consequence. It is impossible not to hope that there are
multitudes of quiet people who will be able to read their Bible
a little more intelligently now ; and perhaps that many others
may be led to neglect it less than they have been used to do.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cams ridge, June %th^ 1 88 1 .
. . . What I meant was that, while it is impossible for
me to think at all except with reference to thinker and
thought (about * existence ' I say nothing), I cannot feel or
understand any such necessity of (if the phrase may be
forgiven) thinking God; belief in Him seems to me a
secondary process, a result, capable of being either received
or rejected. Such would, I imagine, be the general view of
members of the Eranus, and my fear was that the laying down
of a different postulate would make discussion impossible.
No scheme had occurred to me. It is always difficult to me
to frame such things ; and thinking seems just now impossible.
Council is heavy. We had five hours on Monday.
284 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, yiriff^ 13/i, 1881.
. . . Cook's pamphlet^ has just come. It is cleverly
written, and will very possibly produce an impression, by
its Coptic and big Estrangelo if by nothing else. But
Lightfoof s task will not be difficult. I hope, however, that
he will not answer it at once, but wait till some of the
heavier artillery is fired, so that he may reply to all at once,
so far as reply may be expedient.
Humphry has just sent me a most interesting and welcome
letter from Berdmore Compton. I was going to send it on,
but I see he wishes it back at once. The tone is surprising.
Here is one characteristic sentence : " I believe your Revision
will teach us a great deal ; and above all details, it will teach
honesty of interpretation." It is quite unreserved, and ex-
presses a hope that the Old Testament Company " will not be
deterred from similar independence " by the abuse which we
are receiving.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, June 24/^, 188 1 .
My dear Westcott — If you feel strongly that the distinctive
authorship^ should be signified, there is little to be said.
Personally I should have preferred that the work should go
out simply in our joint names — unless, of course, it contained
matter for which you preferred not to take responsibility,
which, however, I do not gather to be the case ; but I can see
that there are some reasons why r6 oKpiPoSiKatov should have
its way, other considerations notwithstanding. One middle
course that occurred to me was for you to take some oppor-
tunity, such as would probably arise in due time, of writing a
line to the Guardian, If you prefer that the notification
should be within the book, then the * History of this edition,'
pp. 16-18 of 'Introduction,' seems to be certainly the right
place.
1 A criticism of the Revised New Testament
' Of the < IntrodttctioD ' to the Greek Testament.
AGE 53 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 285
To HIS ELDEST DAUGHTER
FURKA, August \sty 1 88 1.
... I am writing out of doors in one of the two deep little
valleys which run down from the Furka itself on each side,
Mamma being a little higher up. We have come to the S.E.
valley to be out of the way of the wind, which here is only
a pleasant breeze, tempering the heat of the simshine. As I
sit on a rock, with my inkstand bedded in Azalea procumbtns^
I look across in the distance to the zigzags of the road over
the Oberalp pass, leading to the valley of the (Vorder) Rhine,
and so down to Chur, and the way to the Engadine. There
is not much snow in sight from this spot ; but from one of our
bedroom windows we have a superb view of the Finsteraarhorn,
one of the finest peaks of the Bernese Oberland \ and from
another window we can see the beautiful snowy top of the
Gallenstock just showing itself above a nearer mountain. Our
doings here have been very quiet, chiefly sitting out . . .
The one shadow over the last few days has been the death of
Dean Stanley, the most guileless and the most lovable of men.
It has been a great trial not to be able to be at his funeral.
Little did I think I should never see him again when I looked at
him coming up the aisle of St. Martin's Church for our fare-
well service at the close of the New Testament Revision in
November last
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
HoRTON Villa, Caswell Bay, Swansea,
September 6tA, 1 88 1.
My dear Westcott — One line of congratulation must be
exchanged at the actual completion of the book.^ A parcel
came from MacmiUan on Sunday. He had told me a few
days ago that the stipulated fortnight between the sending of
plates to America would delay actual publication, but that the
presentation copies should go out at once. As it did not
' i.e. the second volume — 'Introduction and Appendix' — of the
Greek Testament.
286 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
appear from what day the fortnight started, I do not know
whether publication has taken place, but suspect not How-
ever, the book has become a visible fact, and suggests many
thoughts — if few words.
To HIS Wife
Grasse, New Yearns Day, 1882.
So that eventful 1881 is ended. Will 1882 be less event-
ful ? The time is big with shocks and changes, and the papers
are not soothing reading.
To HIS Wife
GKhSSZ^ January 15M, 1882.
. . . Now I think I must begin to tell you a little about
the excursions. The first was on Friday week to the islands.
Some of us drove and others walked to the port, where we
went on board one of the little steamers. The water was
quite calm, and the little trip only too short, with very fine
views of the bay and the country behind As we approached
Ste. Marguerite, we saw strange figures on the steep path
between the Castle and the shora These were Tunisian
prisoners in their native dress. The shore is so full of sunken
rocks that we had to land in small boats. We first, after
chartering a boy to carry the provisions, went up into the
Castle, which in fact inside consists of an open barrack-yard
surrounded by rough barracks for the French garrison. The
prisoners were lounging about in different places, a most sad
sight A few had fine faces ; but most looked utterly fierce
and wild. They were apparently well treated, but [had] a
most forlorn look. They exemplified with terrible vividness
the chasm between Europe and the races of Africa and part
of Asia. Of course they were on their good behaviour, only
now and then begging furtively in a whisper for sou or
cigarre or cafe^ — things that of course visitors would not
be allowed to give. We passed through a great yard containing
many of them, on the way to the cell of the Man with the
AGE 53 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 287
Iron Mask, a lion in which I failed to find much interest. He
was evidently treated to far better accommodation than usually
falls to the lot of prisoners ; but the securities taken to prevent
his escape were very elaborate. We saw also the place where
Marshal Bazaine did actually make his escape by a rope let
down to the rocks below, when he was imprisoned for betray-
ing a French army to the Germans. I was glad when the
Castle was done with, and we went out into the foret^ a
great wood which covers the island, chiefly of stone-pines,
with an undergrowth of lentisk, tree-heath (not yet in flower),
and the like. We followed a straight little road which runs
through the wood to the south of the island, facing St. Honorat,
and then looked out a convenient place on the low clifi' for
lunch. After a good sit, we strolled round the western half of
the island, following a path near the shore, beautiful at every
step. We reached the Castle a little too soon for the steamer
which was to pick us up, but were presently carried off in the
boat The steamer took us next to St. Honorat, where we
had the same kind of landing. We crossed this little island
also to its southern side, where the gentlemen of the party
were admitted into the monastery. It was, you will remember,
a monastery of great antiquity and importance, a centre of
light to southern Gaul and even other parts of Europe in the
fifth and sixth centuries. The earliest buildings now discern-
ible are of the ninth or tenth century. In later days the
monastery became a nest of corruptions and abuses, and was
finally dissolved in the year before the Revolution. The island
has since passed through different hands, and a few years ago
the Bishop of Fr^jus bought it and handed [it] over to a
community of Cistercian monks, who have an orphanage
there. We saw some of them, and worthy men of a sort no
doubt they are ; but it is difficult to forgive them for completely
destroying the ruins of the very interesting church in order to
replace it by a new one, when they might have gained what
they wanted by restoration. The cloisters remain, and also, a
good deal disguised, the chapter-house and refectory, all in a
very plain and heavy style. I managed to take a couple of
views, not yet developed. We had hardly more than an hour
altogether, which was much too little; and I missed two
288 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
curious ruined chapels, La Ste. Trinity and St Sauveur. I
saw St. Porcaire, but could make out nothing of the older
part under the new adornments. If I went again I should
certainly like to give the whole time to SL HonoraL In
the spring both islands, but especially Ste. Marguerite, must
evidently be gardens of interesting flowers. But for the sea
air, I think I should go several times.
There is less to say about Mt. Vinaigre, the goal of Satur-
daj^s drive. The plain of Laval to the W. of Grasse is
curious, bordered by a line of stone-pines near the shore.
In the midst rises the sanctuary of St. Cassien, on the top
of an island of rock. It has been a chosen spot from the
very earliest times, long before the -Christian era. You can
imagine the beauty of the views from 'the road winding up
among the folds of the Est^reL We drove above a mile
beyond the very unpromising Auberge de TEst^rel, and then
the walkers took first a side road, and before long an excellent
path leading up to the porphyry crags of the highest point.
We were prepared to find it cold, but found it quite pleasant
from the almost complete absence of wind. The view com-
prised the whole Estdrel, the valley leading up from St.
Raphael and Frdjus round to Toulon, the Montagnes des
Maures, and on the other side the whole coast to the moun-
tains beyond Nice. Unfortunately there was a good deal of
cloud to the north, disguising all the greater mountains. But
what we did see was amply rewarding. We came down by
another beautiful way. Wild Laurustinus was in bud; but
most things were still in a winter stata
To HIS Wife
(On a post-card)
GviASSE, /anuaty 24tAt 1882.
I had yesterday a note from Lord Acton, who came in my
absence to call, and evidently wants me to go and see him at
Cannes. He is a most interesting man, and I never dreamed
of such an honour.
AGS 53 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 289
To HIS Wife
GViASSE,j January ^o/A, 1882.
Dr. Moulton has now sent me out the new number of the
Quarterly, It is (Dean Burgon's article,^ I mean) poor, sorry,
acrid stuff, duller than the last article^ and no better. As
I expected, he returns often to the charge about our text;
but there is no sign that he has read five pages of either
* Introduction ' or ' Appendix,' though he is supposed to have
demolished us.
To HIS Wife
m
Grasse, February znd^ 1882.
A kind note, with interesting enclosures, has come from
Dr. Moulton, who seems terribly pressed for time He is still
uneasy about the bad impression produced by the Quarterly
Review ; but I confess I am much easier now that I have
seen that very significant paragraph in the Guardian^ calling
attention to the article in the Church Quarterly which I
wanted you to find out about Apparently it is very favour-
able. The Guardian and the Church Quarterly together may
do a good deal towards preventing the Revised Version from
being damaged by Dean Burgon's nonsense.
To HIS Wife
(On a post-card)
Grasse, February $lA, 1882. 6 P.M.
Last night I finished my little paper on Professor Maxwell
for Professor Lewis Campbell^ It is an unspeakable relief.
I was very anxious to do it, though far from satisfied with the
result. It may, however, do some good. It has been greatly
on my mind for weeks, and has devoured incredible time —
not to the benefit of next term's lectures.
^ On the * New English Version ' of the New Testament.
• See Life of Professor Clerk Maxwell^ pp. 417-421.
VOL. II U
390 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
To HIS Wife
Cambridge, November ynd^ 1882.
. . . Fancy my receiving from Penmaenmawr to-day an
elaborate article on the Greek Text in Welsh, 23 pages
long ! I shall have to get Professor Cowell's help to trans-
late it
To THE Bishop of Truro
(On his acceptance of the primacy)
6 St. Peter's Terrace, CAMBEizKSBy
St. Stephen* s Day^ 1882.
My dear Bishop — One line I must send — not of con-
gratulation, for who could welcome congratulation on such a
distracting charge, 17 fupifiva iraa-tav tQv €KKX.rf(ruiv} — but of
heartiest sympathy. A few years ago the recollections of the
last thirteen centuries would have had a large place in one's
thoughts at such a season. But now it has become difficult
to think of anything but the problems of the present, so
absolutely new in the history of the world, craving all possible
illumination from past experience, and yet hopelessly insoluble
except in the spirit of St Stephen's prophetic welcome of the
revolution which was so soon to bring a new heaven and a new
earth.
The convulsions of our English Church itself, grievous as
they are, seem to be as nothing beside the danger of its calm
and unobtrusive alienation in thought and spirit from the great
silent multitude of Englishmen, and again of alienation from
fact and love of fact ; — mutual alienations both.
But the last thing that I could wish to-day would be to
croak evil omens. No one who knows you, and remembers
your various antecedents, can be otherwise than eagerly hopeful
as well as earnestly wishful All help from on high be with
you. — Believe me, ever affectionately yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
1
AOB 54 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 291
From the Bishop of Truro
^ TKQ%Ot January loth, 1883.
My dear Hort — . . .' [Your letter] I have re-read and
pondered much — and I can only say that you must come ere
long to Lambeth, and there, surrounded by the heads of the
long line, you must vaticinate — and I hope you will again feel
able to break off with a blessing.
I do not believe that the two alienations you speak of are
naturally progressing on us. They may surely yet be arrested.
But what if those who have insight only prophesy in closets —
when they ought to be speaking from the house-tops ?
I wish we could get a volume of Essays or Discourses out
of yoa . . . — ^Your affectionate E. W. Truron.
To THE Bishop of Truro
6 St. Peter's TmLtLACZj January 13M, 1883.
My dear Bishop — It grieves me much that I have seemed
to suspend a murky cloud over the prospect^ It occurs to
me that at the beginning of my note I used the word
'sympathy' in a connexion which might lend it a wrong
sense, and thus set what followed in an unintended key. The
word was meant to have its fullest sense, pointing to fellow-
ship in the multitudinous thoughts and feelings which must be
hourly taking hold of you just now, and which would rebel
altogether against the artificial summing up of congratulation
or condolence.
However I must doubtless have given too strong an ex-
pression to the anxieties which self-glorifying chaos suggests.
I do feel very strongly how much — speaking only of * human '
possibilities — ^is] still possible; most of all, as you say, by
*' making the great forces of the English Church to converge,"
though this itself would be unattainable without seeking the
convergence of other great forces over a yet wider area.
^ These words and others refer to part of the preceding letter which is
not printed.
293 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, xx
It would be very pleasant some time to take you at your
word and have a talk — not in this tone — ^in front of the long
line of Lambeth faces. No accusing thought abqut them
had suggested itself; rather, I imagine, they would help to
bring to mind " what Thou hast done in their time of old."
To me at least their leading representative is the latest of them
all, my dear old master, whose open eye and single heart it is
a blessing to have known in boyhood.
So pray forgive my mutterings, — ^articulate speech on such
matters is, I fear, constitutionally denied me, — and believe they
ill represent the thanksgivings not less than the prayers in
which you have a chief place. Forgive also my presumption,
for such I unfeignedly and painfully feel it to be. — Ever truly
yours, F. J. A. Hort.
From the Bishop of Truro
Lis Escop., Tkvko, /anuary 17M, 1883.
My dear Hort — ... It was not a word or words, but the
historic retrospect and prospect which seemed to move before
you which gave me such fears.
But it is ta/k with you I want— or rather ta/k from you
And this you will give me. Don't write.
Yours was far the most historical and real letter I have had.
This is why I am concerned.
But you will help me much more by and by. — ^Yours grate^
fully and affectionately, E. W. Truron.
To Dr. Schiller-Szinessy
Divinity School, Cambridge,
January 22nd, 18S3.
My dear Dr. Schiller-Szinessy — ^Were it not for your appeal,
I should have thought it almost an insult to the Jews of
Hungary to express disbelief of the accusation that they drink
Christian blood in the Passover. It seems hardly possible
that any educated man in any country at the present day can
give the slightest credence to that monstrous popular tradition.
i
AGE 54 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 293
inherited from times of ignorance. Christian students can
feel only bitter shame on learning that Jews have to bear the
burden of so cruel a calumny, more especially when it is used
as an engine of persecution. Happily, the true voice of Chris-
tian theology has been already heard in the generous vindica-
tion put forward by Professor Delitzsch of Leipzig, who has
few if any rivals among Christians in the comprehensiveness
of his knowledge of Judaism. — I am, my dear Dr. Schiller-
Szinessy, very sincerely yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To HIS Wife
Cambridge, April StA, 1883.
My time at Oxford was spent very much as I intended it
to be. I lunched in the train, having provided myself at
Swindon, and, as soon as I had established myself at the
Randolph, went to the Bodleian and sent in my card to Mr.
Nicholson, who was very civil, and got me all I wanted. He
asked if I knew Dr. Gregory, who, it seems, has been working
on there ever since he left us. He happened just then to be
out, and Mr. Nicholson kindly sent to tell him of my arrival
In due time he appeared, and seemed overjoyed. I spent
some time over his MSS. and some time over mine, till 5
came^ and we had to leave He took me first to Mr.
Wordsworth's rooms in Brasenose, which he is occupying.
Then we went out for a walk in the country to Foxcombe, and
came back and got a chop at a dining-room, and then wept to
his rooms and chatted till 10. Next morning a little before
9 I joined him at the Bodleian. . . . We made our way to
Hertford, to see the portrait of Tindale which hangs in the
Common room, on Mr. Rose's behalf, with a view to the
Emmanuel window. Finally we returned to the Bodleian for
another bout of MSS. By a great effort I was able to get the
specimen collations done that I wanted. It was tantalizing
that late in the afternoon Dr. Gregory discovered one of his
Greek New Testament MSS. to be of much interest. At a
quarter to 4 I shut up my books. Dr. Gregory insisted on
coming out with me as far as the Randolph. I cannot say how
394 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, nt
assiduously kind he was. Among other things he rushed out
to procure for me two New College MSS. by Professor Driver's
helpp and carried them to me himself, one of them beii^ a
most ponderous folio. I made a pleasant acquaintance in
Mr. Madan, one of the Under Librarians.
Mr. Wordsworth is in Rome collating MSS. with his wife's
help. I did not attempt to see Archdeacon Palmer or Mr.
Arthur Butler — ^if indeed they were at home — for time was
very precious, and the possibih'ty that my MSS. would soon
release me by proving i^mnteresting soon vanished.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
9 St. Peter's Tebracb, April i8M, 1883.
My dear Westcott — ^The Vice-Chancellor tells me that
Robertson Smith would be glad to have the large room at the
Divinity School for his two quasi-inaugural lectures this term.
The subject (uncontroversial, the Vice-Chancellor is told) will
be ' Materials for the History and Geography of Palestine to
be found in Arabic Writers.'
My own opinion would decidedly be in favour of the
application. The subject has close affinities with ' Divinity ' ;
and, moreover, I have the strongest feeling that the represent-
atives of ^ Divinity ' in Cambridge should give him a cordial
welcome: No interest, as far as I see, is compromised by so
doing ; and his defects constitute a specially strong reason in
favour of this course. He will be a power wherever he is ;
and there \& every reason to help forward his evidently strong
and sincere desire to take his stand as a Christian among
Christians.
Very many thanks for your book,^ for which I ventiure to
anticipate a wide and fruitful influence. I trust it will do
much towards dissolving the wall which Pearson and the
Pearsonian tone of mind have built up between the English
mind and the Creed. — Ever affectionately yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
1 The Historic FaUK
AGB 55 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 295
To HIS THIRD Son
Cambridge, May 19/A, 1883. T
My dearest Edward — Mamma sent yesterday our joint
greetings to you, to reach you on yoiu: birthday ; and now on
the birthday itself I must in my own name wish you many
happy returns of it, with hearty wishes of every blessing that
time can bring. It is an old custom to reckon out the years
of life by sevens, and now you have come to the end of your
second seven (the 'threescore years and ten' have only ten
sevens in all !), and can sit on the milestone, as it were, and
look back to the end of the first seven, and forward to the end
of the next seven, — ^not, I hope, without many thoughts of
what has been, what is, and what might be.
To HIS Wife
Hotel de la Maison Rouge, Rhbxms,
July 1st, 1883.
I travelled up with some respectable farmer folk, apparently
Dissenters, and was much interested to listen to their talk.
Two of them were blue ribboners, though not visibly such.
Altogether they left an encouraging impression of what is
going on quietly in the English middle class, to take with me
to France and Switzerland.
... I made my supper at Amiens a little before 6. At
the dujffit the fellow-passenger who had sat opposite to me
took a seat at the same table, to make use of my help as to
French. He had not spoken till then, and I had taken him
for a dissipated young Englishman. After that he talked a
good deal. He was evidently much mixed up in railway
enterprise ; and, as might be expected, left no good impression
of its morality ; but in some ways I liked him much better
than I could have expected from his appearance. At Paris
station there was the usual delay, but at last I escaped in a
bus, which deposited me at the Hotel Louvois. This Hotel
did very well. It occupies a good part of the west side of the
296 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
Square Richelieu, the east side being formed by the Biblio-
th^que Nationale, which likewise runs some way up and down
the Rue Richelieu. The ' Square ' has grass and shady trees,
and seats which are always occupied. . . .
Here I broke off to go to dinner. The greater part of the
company were commis-voyageurs^ and just like those whom we
have often seen, in various types. Poor fellows ! one would
like to know what lies behind that curious existence. Now,
by way of apparent — ^not, we must hope, real— contrast, I am
come back to my room, and am sitting at the window <m a
level with the street (or rather, close, parvis\ from which by a
little leaning I can see the north-west tower and the north
porch of the west front of the Cathedral, only a few yards ofi^
and watch the swallows flying in and out among the traceiy
and behind the great statues of early kings. I may as well,
by the way, speak at once about this house. Its story is told
in a tablet in front : L^an 1429, an sacre de Charles VXI,^
dans cette hdtellerie^ nommie alars LAne Bayt^ h fire et la
tnkre de Jeanne d^Arcq ont kth logh et dkfrayh par k conseil de
la vUle. So, you see, it is a venerable house, though outside
it has a sufficiently modern appearance, and is not even red.
It has a curiously-shaped court within, with a series of galleries.
• . • Now to return to Paris. On Thursday morning, after
a little exploring about places for meals and change of money,
I went to the Library, and at once obtained a ticket for the
MSS. by showing my ticket of two years ago which Mr.
Bradshaw's note had procured for me. The MS. the existence
of which I had suspected at Cambridge was soon found and
in my hands, and I was able to do a good deal with it by the
help of notes taken a week ago.
By the way, I was forgetting that even on my first evening
I had a stroll, making full use of the plans of Paris in Baedeker.
I went straight down to the Rue de Rivoli, and followed the
end of the Tuileries down to the Seine. Nothing could look
more desolate than the Tuileries themselves in their half-
demolished state. At each end was put up an enormous
board with the names of the three contractors. Entrepreneurs
de la demolition des Tuileries, Happily the Tuileries have few
associations of a nature to make one regret them greatly.
AGE 55 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 297
To HIS Wife
Chalons sur Makhz, /ufy 2Hdf 1883.
This seems a good opportunity for going on with my letter
of yesterday, though I have only scribbling paper out with me,
I find. After a day of sight-seeing a piece of the afternoon
remains before fa^le d^hdte at 6.30, and seeing ^Jardin des
Plantes not fiar from the hotel on my plan of Chilons, I have
come out to sit and write in the shade ; my plan, however,
proves to be superannuated, and an Ecole de sericulture
now occupies the ground. After looking about despairingly
in the sunshine, I have now found this public garden not far
off, and have actually found also an empty seat (with a back to
it) in the shade. The relief is great after trotting about on the
broiling pavements of different kinds all day.
Perhaps it will be best if I take things out of their order,
and speak of the last day first, that is, to-day. The journey
between the two cities took little more than an hour by the
fiist train. It was across typical Champagne country, shut in
on the south by the low hills of the ' Montagne de Rheims,'
between Rheims and Epemay, covered with forest and vine-
yards intermixed ; this montagne being the region from which
most of the true Champagne wine is collected. The only
station at which we stopped was Mourmelon, the station for
the ^Etmous Camp of Chilons, the Aldershot of the French
army. It must have been somewhere thereabouts — ^the exact
place there seems to be no clear evidence to show — that Attila
and his Huns were arrested in 451 in the battle of ChMons,
one of the great saving battles of history, like Marathon, Tours,
and Waterloo. We reached Chilons station at half-past 10,
and I took the bus up to the hotel recommended by Dr.
Hunter. It looks out on the great open market-place, as
likely as not to be the scene of St Bernard's preaching the
Crusade. After getting leave to deposit my things, I went out
to see the buildings.
First came the Cathedral, which we had passed on the way
from the station, soon after crossing the Mame. Externally
it is not an imposing building, besides being rather out of
sight. The west front is a dreadful block of Louis Quatorze
298 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
upholstery in stone. The transepts are much better, and each
of them (Middle Gothic in character) clings to the west side
of a somewhat slender late Romanesque tower, forming a very
picturesque combination. The interior is a fine lofty and aiiy
church of somewhat early French Gothic, without strikii^
features, but having an excellent general effect Even the
triforium is glazed behind. In some of the windows there is
good glass of different dates. Leaving the Cathedral, which is
at the west end of the city, I came back to the middle of it,
passing through the Place de Ville to Ndtre Dame. This is
a very striking and interesting church. No doubt it owes a
good deal to the two wooden spires which have been lately
put on the two western towers. These towers must originally
have had a very different roofing, but it is impossible to deny
the gracefulness of their present Gothic adornments. The
west towers, west front, and transepts are predominantly
Romanesque of excellent character, as are also two toweis
further east, to which the transepts are attached, as at the
Cathedral ; the interior is chiefly the earliest Gothic, decidedly
earlier than that of the Cathedral. It is practically a Transition
church. The capitals of the nave, with a Transitional look,
are very good for the most part, and some of the arcading is
as good in form as it can be. The French love of height is
indulged with admirable effect. Light and airy galleries divide
the nave-arches from the beautiful triforium above, while above
that again comes a light but too plain clerestory. The fine
rose and other lights of the west end have been brought well
into view by dividing the organ, and fixing the two halves
against the north and south walls of the western gallery.
There is some good late glass. Altogether it is an unusually
interesting church.
From Joanne I had come to the conclusion that two of the
other churches were of date making them probably worth
seeing. One of them, St Jean, was a long way off to the east,
and I thought twice before setting out on pilgrimage. How-
ever I was well rewarded. The church has been cruelly mal-
treated by well-meant restoration, but it showed me for the
first time in these parts a genuine early Romanesque nave (prob-
ably tenth century, if not earlier). The forms were all rude
AGS 55 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 299
and sqtiare, and the aisles were of the same width as the nave ;
there was no sign of the slightest love of light or air. But it
was most interesting to see the genuine Romanesque (confirm-
ing the ancient date of Avignon and Grasse), which a century
or two later was for the most part swept away by a Gothicising
Romanesque Then, by the quaintest contrast, the short
English-looking chancel and transepts were in newly-restored
and newly-beautified Middle Gothic, that might have come
out of an English 'Decorated' parish church, while the
junction is formed (evidently owing [to] the modem downfall
of a central tower) by a quaint attempt at Romanesque with
classical elements, dated legibly 1603, repeated outside in a
queer low tower or turret, with a good imitation of a genuine
pyramid.
Last, I came back to St. Alpin, between the hotel and
Ndtre Dame, likewise a comparatively small church, the body
like the Cathedral on a small scale, but with no radiating
chapels to the cheoet The little west front, however, is full
of interesting Romanesque elements, and the windows of the
chevet have glass late in date but rich in colour and drawn
with admirable spirit (I wish the creature who designed
those idiotic twists in Great St Mary's could see them.)
After the chiurches I paid a visit to the town library, but
found not much of interest to myself.
To HIS Wife
Hotel Loewb, MOhlen, Julier Strassb,
GRisoNs,/f<(K6/^, 1883.
. . . Now it is high time for me to try to fill up the gap in
my earlier story, before the incidents have faded away more
completely than, alas ! they have begun to do already. The
Thursday at Paris comes first, I think. Finding that the
Louvre (alone, or almost alone, of interiors) remains open till
5, I went off after the Library to see what I could. The
time was too short for pictures, and I began at the proper
beginning, the remains of the earliest civilisations, some of
which are exceptionally well represented. I did not linger
over the Assjrrian antiquities, the British Museum having here
300 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
the advantage, but walked through to the Sidonian and Phoe>
nician rooms, which were full of new matter. I was mcKt
struck with an enormous recumbent sepulchral figure of a kii^
of Sidon, with his face broadened out into a great stone
cushion. There were other figures of the same type, but he
outdid them alL Various mixed antiquities from Greek
islands and from Asia Minor craved more time than I could
give. I wanted to get at least a glimpse at the magnificent
Egyptian collection; but the amount of detail made it only
tantalizing when the minutes were so very few. The impres-
sion I carried most clearly away was of three or four quite
small wooden statues, standing as though on the march, with
a peculiar vividness of life ; date three thousand years before
the Exodus. But I had hardly reached these figures when the
galleries were cleared. I paused on the way out in a sort of
open portico or gallery, looking down on one of the busiest
scenes of modem Paris, at the east end of the building. The
contrasts of ancient and modem France are startling enou^
to come upon ; but here there was yet more extreme contrast,
in which the earliest civilisation of France seemed joined to
the newest Parisian life of to-day, and was made to appear
absolutely modem. From the Louvre I tmdged down the
Rue de Rivoli eastward, past the Tour de St Jacques, to the
Hotel de Ville, vainly hoping some Temnant of the famous
building might remain ; but, alas ! all was of the freshest. The
petroleum had done its work too well. Then I made my way
to the primitive Paris, the Cit^ in the midst of the Seine. In
passing I saw (imperfectly) the outside of the Sainte Chapelle,
but knew it was too late to seek admission. I then crossed
completely to the left bank of the Seine, and walked slowly
along the quay so as to approach Notre Dame gradually from
the west, with the river between ; and a venerable statcdy pile
it certainly looked, though less mysterious than I expected
On crossing back to the Cit^ I found the church was closed ;
the open hours were past. So I could do nothing but walk
round the buOding, and then sit down, very tired, in the public
garden at the east end, and look up at the flying buttresses,
which (to my mind) entirely spoil the effect oi the nave and
choir. Indeed, I cared for little except the west front and
AGS 55 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 301
the general mass as seen at a distance ; but then it is to be
remembered that I failed to see the interior. Having thus
more time on my hands, I studied Baedeker how to use it
most profitably, and then recrossed to the left bank, and pene-
trated to the Boulevard de St Germain through streets which
looked as if they might be a hundred years old, a good deal for
Paris after the demolitions in which Louis Napoleon and his
protkgk Baron Haussmann were the worst offenders. I found
the Boulevard rather wearying, as the western sim looked
straight down it, allowing no shade on either side, and the
length on the map looked formidable. So I trampled on shy-
ness and climbed up the little staircase to the roof of a tram-
car, and was carried only too quickly to St Germain des Pr^s.
The meadows and the abbey have long vanished, but the large
and interesting semi-Romanesque church remains. The nave
was open, and I was glad to wander about it Unfortunately
the hours for showing the chapels round the choir were over ;
but I was able to look across towards the openings of the
recesses in which the dust of some of the greatest of French-
men is laid, three of them having a very special interest for
me : Descartes, the founder of modem continental philosophy
as against the reckless Italian and French scepticism of the
sixteenth century, and Montfaucon and Mabillon, the two
most distinguished of the Benedictines of St Maur, who placed
France for a time at the head of learned Europe by the learn-
ing and laborious research, and the Uberality and candour,
¥rith which they studied Christian literature and antiquities ;
Mont&iucon, the editor of Chrysostom, Athanasius, and other
Fathers, the founder of Greek palaeography, and the author of
the great collection of Classical antiquities the backs of which
greet you every time you go downstairs at home ; Mabillon,
the founder of Latin palaeography, and the author and editor
of innumerable writings, chiefly with reference to monastic
history and to kindred subjects, especially Latin liturgies.
Leaving St Germain des Pr^s, I got some dinner at a neigh-
bouring itablissement Duvaly and then made my way through
the Rue des Saints P^res, skirting the University quarter,
to the river,*which I recrossed to the Place du Carrousel
and Napoleon's Arc de Triomphe, and so got home. In the
302 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, a
evening I strolled to the Boulevard des Capudnes, gazed up at
the Grand H6tel and thought much of twenty years ago, and
strolled down to the Place de la Madeleine. These evenings
were the least satisfactory part of the time. The present state
of the French drama put theatres quite out of the question,
but I was glad to see a little of the great thorough^ires, the
shop windows, and the passers-by. I was still more glad,
however, to get home, and tumble into bed Next da7, after
the Library, I took a fiacre to the Nord station, and much
enjoyed the drive. Not understanding clearly the difierem
kinds of suburban trains, I arrived unawares just too late for
one to St Denis, and so lost some twenty minutes, but got
comfortably off in due time. From St. Denis station I walked
the three-quarters of a mile to the Cathedral or Basilique,
A less fit way of access to such a spot could hardly be imagined.
St Denis [is] now merely a manufacturing suburb of Paris,
without a house of any importance visible. The streets re-
minded me most of Bishop Auckland or the outskirts of a
Welsh town. All is sordid, not with the miserable sordidness
of neglect as at St Gilles, but merely because the place is all
a kind of superior back slums. The people looked industrious
and harmless enough ; there was not a trace of the wickedness
which is only too conspicuous in the well-to-do parts of Pans.
Apart from its marvellous associations, the church is architect-
urally very interesting, being chiefly built by Abbot Suger,
minister to Louis VI., one of the greatest men of the twelfth
or indeed any century. I had, however, not five minutes in-
side, and entirely lost the sight of the tombs of the kings of
France. The other train gave the last opportimity, and the
church was just being shut up. However, it was sometime
to catch a glimpse of the tombs at a distance, and to think of
the eighth century, and the anointing of Pepin and his sons
(one of them Charles the Great) by Pope Stephen, the first
beginning of the mediaeval Papacy and the mediseval Empire,
and then of the twelfth century and Abelard, and so on to the
times of the Revolution, when the tombs were sacked exactly
one hundred years, to a day, from the sacking of the tombs oif
the Emperors at Spires by order of the * Most Catholic ' king
Louis XIV. It was sad to find so little remaining in sight,
AGS 55 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 303
the doors being shut, for the place outside was not one to
linger in. So I looked about for the most endurable inn to
dine in, and at last pitched on a Hdtel du Marchk^ in the
style of our hostelry near Orange station. However, I did
sufficiently well there^ and then walked back in time to catch
an earlier train. In the evening I lounged down through the
Place de la Concorde to the Champs £lys6es past the obelisk
from Luxor, and then strolled back and bought photographs,
but unluckily could get none of St. Denis or St. Germain des
Pr&.
To HIS Wife
MfjHLEN, July iiM, 1883.
... In the twilight [at Rheims] I went out to have a look
at the great Cathedral close at hand, which of course was shut
up. It suffers just now from the works connected with restora-
tion, as, besides the scaffolding at the sides, there are great
wooden enclosures for masons at the north door of the west
front, and indeed, in some measure, at the south door too.
But the grandeur and majesty of the west front itself remained
almost uninjured. Equally impressive in another way were
the western doors, and I stood in their deep recesses and
looked up at the ghostly figures from another yet a most
human world, with which they are peopled. In the dim even-
ing twilight they woke up into a kind of second life of their
own. Service was going on when I entered the building next
morning after breakfast. When it ended, I had a short interval
for looking about, without and within, before the principal
service at 10. The interior is very beautiful and striking,
but hardly equals the west front with its towers. The pro-
portions are good and the form simple, while richness and
variety is given by the cheuet at the east end, with its radiat-
ing chapels. I was much interested by the sermon, delivered
by a wiry little Abb^ with keen eyes. It was rather a lecture
on the duty of supporting Skminaires for the clergy than a
sermon ; but, under this rather serious limitation, it was very
earnest and direct With all its grievous offences, past and
present, the French Church must have still a capacity for
304 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HOtCT chap, ix
great things when it can produce such men. After the hotel
dkjmnery I walked down southward through a great piece of
Rheims to St R^mi The city itself surprised me by its want
of dignity. It is not at all squalid or disorderly, but there is
a great lack of stately houses, though this is more true on the
south than on the north side of the Cathedral. Rheims is more
like a magnified Hereford than any other place I could think
of, of course with French characteristics replacing English
As I got farther into the shabby outskirts over the hot pave-
ments, I began to wonder whether I had missed St. R6ini ;
however, at last I reached it, a great church, most noble in
appearance and most interesting, built in the Romanesque
and semi-Romanesque of the eleventh and twelfth centuries,
full of the restrained energy of the true Middle Age before its
blossoming out in the thirteenth century, which is admirably
reflected in the pure and rich Gothic of the Cathedral, and
still more before the decay and corruption of the fourteenth
and fifteenth centuries. The west front, though without the
imaginativeness of that of the Cathedral, is very original and
striking, and so is the interior, one of the most spacious
interiors I ever saw. But it is of no use trying to recall, much
less write down, details, which you will learn much better from
the photographs. The name St. R^mi comes only from the
deposition of St. Remigius' relics. It is, I imagine, to the site
of the Cathedral (not of course the present building) that the
event belongs which gives Rheims its highest place in history,
the baptism of the Frank Clovis by Remigius. This was the
beginning of the Christian Frankish kingdom ; and the com-
bination of military and ecclesiastical power which thus arose
led by degrees to the extinction of the Gothic and Arian rule
in the south, and prepared the way at last for Charles the
Great and his Empire, and the fresh alliance with Rome which
dates from that time, as I mentioned in talking of Chilons.
In Charles' age, or at least soon after, Rheims was likewise
made illustrious by its great and learned Archbishop, Hincmar.
From St R^mi I went a littie farther south, to the extremity
of the city where (when it was fortified) stood the Parte Dieu
Lumihrey an interesting name, the origin of which I should like
to find out. I then came back by a circuit to the hotel, and
AGE 55 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 305
Strolled a little northward to look at the Place Royale (name
still left unchanged !), with the Town Hall, which contains the
Town Library, where I saw some remarkable MSB. exposed
in cases. After the afternoon service I went still farther
north to see a large Roman gate, the so-called Porte de Mars,
interesting chiefly as a monument connecting the Rheims of
to-day with its earliest civilised times. After dinner I wandered
again about the Cathedral The stained glass of its windows
(as indeed of those of St R^mi) is early and good ; and few
sights could be more glorious than the great western rose as
the setting sun shone through it. Now I think I have come
to an end of Rheims, and about the rest of the journey you
have heard already. I may just mention one interesting house
in Rheims, said to be of thirteenth century, the Maison des
Musiciens. It is decorated in front with wonderfully beautiful
and spirited wooden figures of musicians. Unfortunately I
could not procure a photograph. They gave as a reason the
narrowness of the street, which is undeniable ; but I fancy I
have somewhere seen a photograph.
The latter part of the above has been written out of doors.
To HIS SECOND Son
Bbrnina Hospiz, Engadinb, Grisons,
SWITZBRLAND, /»^ iS/i, 1 883.
, . . The bee orchis has come in very fair order. The
other orchis which you send looks like O, pyramidalisy a July
orchis growing on dry ground, for instance at the top of the
Cherry Hinton chalk-pit There must, I think, be near
Sherborne at least three other kinds of orchids besides those
which you mention, perhaps more, indeed probably more.
I wonder where you got the name Orchis fragrans ; no
doubt it is the plant now usually called Gymnadenia conopsea^
which is very sweet, as, indeed, is the Butterfly Orchis also.
I found near Miihlen one spike of a not very common foreign
kind closely allied to it, with flowers of a deep rose colour,
called Gymnadenia odoratissima,
. . . The day I came here from Miihlen was very interesting
VOL. II X
306 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chaf. ix
geographically. First, at the top of the Julier Pass I left the
waters flowing into the Rhine, and so into the North Sea
opposite England, and came at once to the waters flowing into
the Inn, and so into the Danube, and so into the Black Sea
not very far north of Constantinople ; and then, at the top of
the Bemina Pass, I left waters flowing likewise into the Iniiy
and came at once to waters flowing into the Adda, and so
into the Po, and so into the Adriatic not far south of Venice.
You see what a middle comer of Europe it is. Goeschenen
and Andermatt are not far from the Furka, whence waters flow
into the Rhone, and so into the Mediterranean.
To HIS THIRD Son
Cambridge, November \^th^ 1883.
... I wonder whether Mr. Young has been giving you
at Sherborne any lecture or sermon or anything of the sort as
part of the Luther Commemoration which has been going
on during the last few days, in celebration of four hundred
years from Luther's birth. We had what was called a Con-
ference here on Thursday at the Com Exchange, when some
interesting papers were read and speeches made. The object
of course was to honour the memory of a great and good man,
to whom more than to any one man the Church owes the
blessings of the Reformation, and to whom Germany in
particular rightly looks up with great veneration. He was
sometimes violent and unwise, but those were exceptions only ;
and it has been a good thing that his name has now been
brought forward for commemoration. — Ever, dearest Edward,
your afiectionate father, F. J. A. Hort.
To Mr. J. M. Ludlow
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
December I'^th^ 1883.
... I am rejoiced to hear that the long expected Lift^ is
so nearly launched. I had hoped as much from a reported
1 Of F. D. Maurice.
AGE 55 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 307
word of Frederick Maurice the other day. But I cannot say
I have chafed greatly at the delay. The new picture and
the new presentations of — ^to some of us — old thoughts will,
I venture to think, come with the greater power for the space
of forgetfulness that will have passed upon the rapid genera-
tion.— Believe me, very truly yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To Mrs. Fraser
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
February gth, 1884.
My dear Mrs. Fraser — It is sad and humiliating to think
how long I have been meditating a letter to you. Letters in
these days seem never to get written except under the sharp
pressure of some immediate occasioa To-day a very welcome
occasion has arisen. The Select Preachers Syndicate has
commissioned the Vice-Chancellor to ask the Bishop of Man-
chester to preach before the University in October, and so I
am anxious to lose no time in writing likewise, with a double
purpose. First, I trust we may reckon on your good offices
to support the request of the University authorities ; and next
we are very anxious to have, if we may, the happiness of
receiving the Bishop and yourself in our own home for as long
as you can stay.
You and he have been much in our thoughts during the
last few months. A more painful position could hardly be
imagined, and the cruel injustice with which it has been mis-
interpreted has been of a kind that rouses simple indignation.
But the appeal of every honest and true man in these days,
and I suppose in aU days,- must be to the multitude of silent
observers, who remain undisturbed by the clatter of unscrupu-
lous tongues, and who do not forget the worth of high service
rendered to Church and people. It was grievous to hear dark
rumours of a possible resignation. The late decision has, I
trust, quite averted that calamity. But indeed, indeed, if I
may presume to speak, nothing short of physical incapacity for
duty would in my judgement have justified it The Church
cannot spare the Bishop either from his diocese or from the
3o8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, rx
councils of bishops ; and his retirement would, I fed sure, have
been both a heavy discouragement and a heavy loss to the
causes which he holds most dear.
There, I hope I am forgiven for my presumption.
To Dr. C. R. Gregory
6 St. Peter's Tekrace, Afay lUk^ 1884*
. . . We were between two and three weeks abroad, and
had a very successful time, not seriously incommoded by the
cold at first and the rain at last, the middle part being dry and
pleasant, and all the time better than endurable. . . . The
route was Amiens, Chartres, Morlaix (a little east of Brest)
with St Pol de L^on, Dinan with Dol and Mont St Michel,
Le Mans, Angers, Saumur with Fontevrault, Tours, Beauvais,
and Abbeville. At the end we were a little tired, chiefly I
think from taking of late only an ordinary instead of an
exorbitant allowance of sleep, as at first ; but we were on the
whole much the better, and of course enjoyed everything
extremely. In most places we had two nights. This \s
much too rapid travelling, but under all the circumstances
it would have been wrong not to take advantage of the
expensive opportunity. I peeped into Le Mans Library,
and spent half an hour in Toiu^ Library, chiefly looking
(quite without collation) at the magnificent golden Gospels.
For the rest it was solely a topographical and architectural
tour.
May 25M. — . . . This shameful delay of another fortnight
has practically arisen out of pressure of lectures. Now they
are practically over ; but much other business remains, with
endless arrears of private work and letters ; and on June i8th
and 19th we shall be deep in celebrating the Tercentenary
of the foundation of Emmanuel College; Lowell is coming
down, and Harvard is sending over a representative. I shall
hardly get away till the end of June, and whither I know not
yet I should like to say nowhither, for I do sigh for two or
three months of undistracted work among my own books. —
Always truly yours, F. J. A. Hort.
AGE 56 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 309
To MIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, /mii^ 20/^, 1884.
... On Wednesday evening the festivities of the Em-
manuel Tercentenary Commemoration began with a great
dinner in Hall. Besides the Master and the present Fellows
and a few other people connected with the College, there
were also all the former Fellows of the College who were able
to come, most of the Masters of Colleges, and the leading
Professors and University Officers; and finaUy Mr. Lowell,
the American ambassador; and Professor Eliot Norton,
who came over specially from America to represent Harvard
University, the oldest and most important American University,
founded by an Emmanuel man two hundred and fifty years ago.
Most of the speeches were very interesting. Next day we had
Holy Communion early in chapel, and at 11.30 we had a
special Commemoration service, in the arrangement of which I
had taken a large part It began with a Psalm in Latin,
beautifully sung, and there was an anthem composed for the
occasion by Professor Macfarren, and a sermon by the Bishop
of Winchester. After service we went to the Senate-house
to see an Honorary Degree conferred on Professor Norton.
Then came a great lunch, or rather cold dinner, to all old
Emmanuel men who could come, held in a marquee in one
of the courts, again with interesting speeches. Meanwhile
Mamma and Mrs. Shuclcburgh had a garden party in the
Fellows' garden, and in the evening the Master gave a party,
with beautiful glee singing in the gallery, which is lit with
electric light. Everything went off well f^om first to last, and
I hope the result will be an increase of interest in the Collie
among its members.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Baker House, Castlbton, Grosmont, R.S.O.,
Yorkshire, AMgust igth, 1884.
. . . We are staying in a cottage at the top of a village
street along the crest of a ridge which, half a mile higher up.
3IO FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
becomes part of the Cleveland Moors, fifteen or sixteen
miles west of Whitby. The country hereabouts is quite new
to all of us, and we are greatly enjoying it, with its alterna-
tions of heathy moor and undulating dales, with bright little
farms nestling in trees along the line of junction between the
two regions. The air is very good, and even in this thunder-
ous weather there has almost always been a breeze. We are
fortunate in having for our clergyman J. C. Atkinson, a vigorous
man of seventy, author of a solid History of Cleveland and
Glossary of the Cleveland Dialecty a good churchman, sensible
and active, with much miscellaneous cultivation, chiefly of the
antiquarian sort.
This has been at Emmanuel a memorable year, as we
celebrated our Tercentenary in June. The preparations had
occupied the greater part of a year, and we looked forward
with much anxiety to the result, the undertaking being con-
siderable for our small body. However, all went off as well as
we could desire, thanks in great part to the zeal and energy of
two or three of our number. Perhaps the most interesting
feature was the commemoration of the part played by the
College, or rather by members of it, in the creation of New
England, and especially the foundation of Harvard. Lowell
came down and made a good speech ; but an even more not-
able figure was Eliot Norton, who was specially delegated by
Harvard to represent the daughter College, and crossed the
water for the purpose. Possibly you may remember his name
as that of the young American who became Clough's ^test
friend in New England, and the recipient of some of his most
interesting letters after his return to England. Both his
speeches were full of matter, and personally he seemed even
more a man to be liked. When I get home, I will send you
a copy of the service in chapel, in the production of which I
had naturally the chief part For the opening I borrowed O
gentes omnes undiqiUy from the terminal Oxford service (un-
known to most Oxford men, I fancy), and its effect as
sung very slowly to Tallis' Ordinal was simply magnificent
We did not quite succeed in completing our series of
windows for the chapel in time, but there was enough for
the general effect I must tell you about them another time.
AGE 56 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 311
Rose ^ and I have been taken up with them a great deal for
the last year or two.
To Mr. Westlake, Q.C.
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
December 7M, 1884.
... As reg^ds the prayer of the Memorial,^ there is
much to be said for it Colenso was, I feel no doubt, a
public benefactor in virtue of his missionary work, linguistic
and other, and his genuine though perhaps not always well
directed zeal on behalf of native races against English rapacity
and injustice. Whether public services of this nature are
such as would fitly be recognised by a posthumous Civil
Service pension, is certainly worth consideration. But ac-
cording to my view the question should be answered without
the importation of any additional claim derived from per-
formances in criticism or theology.
The terms of the Memorial, however, go considerably
beyond these limits, though the second sentence pronounces it
to be " unnecessary to look at the matter from any sectional
point of view, either in religion or in politics." The words,
*' The services which the Bishop rendered to Biblical literature
are widely acknowledged both in England and abroad, even
by many who differ from him theologically," do not, indeed,
express any opinion as to the merits of such 'acknowledge-
ment ' ; yet any one putting his hand to them would reason-
ably, I think, be understood to express approval of it And
again, though it is only of Colenso's missionary labours that
it is said that they "will always rank his amongst the most
honoured names of the English Church and nation," I do
not see how such language can be truthfully used by any one
who does not personally rank Colenso's name among the most
to be honoured names of the English Church and nation.
Now I am quite unable to assent to either of the opinions
^ The Rev. Alfred Rose, then Bursar of the College.
^ The proposed Memorial was one praying for a Civil Service pension
for Bishop Colenso's widow.
312 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
which thus seem to me to be directly implied in the terms of
the Memorial. As far as I can judge without that thorough
independent investigation of the whole subject-matter which
alone would entitle me to speak with full confidence, it seems
likely enough that, among the various contributions which the
present generation is making from various sides towards the
solution of the exceedingly difficult problems of Jewish history
and Old Testament criticism, Colenso's writings will be ulti-
mately found to contain some materials of permanent value
in the midst of much that will not bear investigation. But
that is not saying very much. And on the other hand, even
were such services greater than I imagine them to be, they
would be outweighed by what appear to me the grave defects
of his method and manner of criticism, and also by the dis-
couragement which the cause of progressive Old Testament
criticism in England has sustained through the natural revulsion
against the manner in which he has represented it So also
as regards the larger claim that his name should be ranked
amongst the most honoured names of the English Church and
nation on the strength of his missionary work, it would be
unreasonable to leave out of account another part of his
conduct by which his position as a missionary bishop was
affected, and could not but be affected — ^that is, the manner in
which he gave expression to his recently-formed critical views.
I am aware that to many, including valued friends of my
own, this part of his conduct appears a title to special honour ;
and therefore the words of the Memorial are natural to them to
use. But I am unable to share their opinion. It is impossible
to withhold sympathy from a man who has been treated with
such cruel injustice, more especially when he is condemned in
great measure on grounds subversive of all honest criticism
and rational belief But, however much his accusers may be
to blame, I am constrained to think that his own culpable
recklessness was the prime cause of the grievous ecclesiastical
troubles of S. Africa, the end of which, at least in their
reaction upon English affairs, seems to be still far off. The
earliest comment I heard made on his action still seems to
me the most just, that it came under the head of those
blunders that are worse than crimes. And if this is true^
AGE 56 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 313
Colenso cannot on a broad view be pronounced a benefactor
to either Church or nation.
You will of course understand that I am not in the least
desirous of entering into controversy on the matter. But I
thought it due to you to try to indicate how I stand with
respect to it, instead of merely saying, Non possum. You
may be sure I shall not think the worse of you for your
loyalty to your old tutor, of whom indeed it costs me no effort
to think kindly.
To HIS THIRD Son
Cambridge, /amMv^K 3i^> 1885.
. . . Poor German master ! It is, very naturally, almost
always a difficulty with them to keep order in an English
school However, every one in the form who treats them
with the respect which is really their due, and feels it all the
more a point of honour to do so because they are foreigners,
may do a good deal towards mending matters.
To HIS YOUNGEST SON
Cambridge, February ith^ 1885.
... It is very odd to think of Arthur as teaching at
Rugby,^ which I knew so well for five years in my own
school-days. Before he started we looked over the photo-
graphs which Mamma and I bought at Rugby when we were
there some years ago. But of course a great many changes
have been made since I left the school, more than thirty-
eight years ago. However, the principal old buildings remain,
and the great green school-field or ^ close,' with its magnificent
elm-trees. It is pleasant to hear of Arthur playing football
there, as I have done so many many times.
No doubt you have heard of the sad news from Egypt,
how Khartoum has at last been taken by the Arabs, and brave
General Gordon either killed or made prisoner, — we do not
yet know which. It is all very anxious news for the future,
1 His eldest son was taking temporary work at Rugby.
314 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, a
as you will understand better some day. Indeed, just now
there is much in public affairs to make one sad and anxious.
God grant that you, my dear boy, may grow up a wise and
good man, able and wUling to do good service to our dear
England, in so for as the cause of England goes along with
what is right and good, and not mean and selfish.
To HIS THIRD Son
Cambridge, February 21s/, 1885.
... I was not at all pleased to hear that the attempted
assassination of O'Donovan Rossa met with so much approval
in the Debating Society. Of course everybody would fed,
and very justly feel, 'Serve him right' It would be quite
impossible to have much pity for so unscrupulous a con-
spirator, ready to sacrifice any number of innocent lives. But
that woman's act was not the less criminal, and the admiration
shown for her is only a sign of low morality.
You have perhaps seen by the papers that the Master of
Downing has at last died. He caught a cold driving on
Tuesday week, and never recovered from the consequences.
Every one feels deeply for dear old Mrs. Worsley, whose one
desire was that she might not live to the funeral.
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, March 7M, 1885.
. . . You will be grieved, and yet not altogether grieved,
to hear that dear Mrs. Worsley died yesterday morning.
She had no desire to live after her husband, to the care of
whom she had been wholly devoted for many years ; and God
has mercifully spared her what would have been only a
prolongation of forlorn misery. She has even been spared
the wrench of a removal from the house so completely
associated with him. Since his death she has shut herself up,
seeing no one but his nephew and niece ; but she has been
calm and free from suffering. She sent a tender message to
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 315
your mother, who called on Lady Worsley. She passed away
in sleep. You will, I am sure, always remember her kindness
to you and the beautiful dignity of her face. It is a real
possession for life to have had such a vision.
To THE Rev. J. E. C. Welldon
(On his appointment as Head-Master of Harrow School)
6 St. Peter's Terrace, May 2nd, 1885.
My dear Mr. Welldon — One line I must send to shake
your hand. Much as I am rejoicing, I do not like to speak
of congratulation. That never seems the right word when
a friend has been promoted to a great and arduous post
I would rather send sympathy, which I trust includes
rejoicing.
The future of England seems likely to depend in no small
measure on the course of things at such schools as Harrow
during the next twenty or thirty years. There never can have
been a more critical time for them. It is still possible to keep
them Christian, but only on the condition without which
their Christianity would itself become stunted and depraved ;
viz. by keeping steadily in mind that a true Christianity must
include the convergence of all high aims, by whatever names
they may call themselves. Foes have to be recognised as
foes; but their power of harm is best restrained by the
recognition, whenever possible, that they are also something
other than foes, unless they propagate mere destruction
or immorality. For this reason I am sure that it is best to
have as little waving of banners as possible In the present
state of things too much speech may easily sap the efficacy of
resolute and circumspect work, by alienating sympathies
which might have been kept and strengthened
... I will only add that you are happy in succeeding to
such a tradition of nobility and pure public spirit as Butler
leaves behind him.
We shall think much of you. — Believe me very truly yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
3i6 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
To HIS YOUNGEST SON
Cambridge, May yuh^ 1885.
. . . We were very glad to hear that the fret-saw has be^i
at work. I am not sorry that you will have the Lcuiy cf the
Lake instead of Milton, which you will understand better bye
and bye. I hope you will read the Revised Version of the Old
Testament all through, taking a chapter or two every day. If
you have not begun already, you might begin to-morrow. It
is a great gain to have the habit of reading some every day,
and the publication of the Revised Version gives an excellent
opportunity for a fresh start.
To HIS Wife
Cambridge, yifM« 12M, 1885.
... I was quite able to enjoy the concert^ Bach's Min
feste Burg hardly came up to my expectations, but parts of it
were very line, especially the last two movements, a duet and
the genuinely Luther-like conclusion. But the string Concerto
in A minor was exquisite throughout. There was a very short
break before the Handel began. First came the Organ Con-
certo in A major, which was marvellously grand, full of the
stateliest melody, though a little declining into ordinary
Handelian rant towards the end. The noisy and clever Ode
for St Cecilia's Day was much less interesting, except the
Overture and a very peculiar and subtle March ; but of course
it was well worth hearing.
To HIS Wife
Cambridge, /f<ff< 14M, 1885. 8.10 p.bc
Our entertainment ^ at the Divinity School yesterday after-
noon was as successful as it could well be in boat>race week.
^ A commemorative concert given by the Cambridge University Muacal
Society, consisting of works of Bach and Handel
' Probably that given on the occasion of a visit from Bishop Lightfoot.
[
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 317
A dozen or so men turned up, to whom we supplied tea and
coffee, and showed Palestine photographs (some very beautiful
French views lent by Mr. Dalton) and expounded photographs
of MSS. It was pleasant making acquaintance with the men,
i and I think they were interested.
St. Mary's was a strange sight to-day. The scaffoldmg was
prominent, now moved into the middle of the church. The
crowds were enormous, at least downstairs. I do not think I
have seen so many M.A.S for many years, and the ladies
swarmed and overflowed everywhere. The undergraduates
alone put in a comparatively poor appearance. The labours of
the week had probably been too much for them. The sermon
itself did make me very sorry indeed that you missed it I do
not know how to describe the rather peculiar appearance of
Mr. Phillips Brooks. He is very tall, with a marked face and
manner. It is a shame to compare him to so very unhke a
man as Thackeray, but there was a real likeness ; something
also of Mr. Hotham, and of Sedgwick! In the Bidding
Prayer it was startling to hear him " as in private duty bound "
speak of Harvard College in Cambridge, Massachusetts ! He
began, as Mr. Litchfield had described after hearing his
Oxford sermon, with quite extraordinary rapidity. It was a
great effort to catch what was said, the voice being at that
time rather low and by no means emphatic, and the manner,
though interesting to an intelligent hearer, was not impressive
to any one who needed rousing. But in all these respects he
improved much as he went along, though almost always too
fast. But the simplicity, reality, and earnestness could hardly
have been surpassed, and I should imagine that few ever let
their attention flag. The matter was admirable, a carefully
thought-out exposition of Maurice's doctrine of tolerance, as
the fruit of strong belief, not of indifference. There was no
rhetoric, but abundance of vivid illustrations, never irreverent
and never worked up for effect, but full of point and humour.
Altogether it was one of the sermons that it is a permanent
blessing to have heard. If possible, I will get an extra copy
of the /Review before afternoon post on Wednesday, that you
may be able either to read it at some pause on Thursday and
leave it at Abercamlais, or else to read it on the journey.
3i8 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
But, after all, real sermons in print are only so many mummies ;
they are poor things without the living voice of the living maji,
when a man of real force and truth of character has somethiiig
that he wants to say.
By the way, it is annoying to find that if I should get to
the boats to-morrow or next day, it will not be to see
Emmanuel, the races for the Second Division being over.
I mean to send you on the Spectator^ which has mud
interesting reading. The political crisis perplexes and d^
tresses me more and more. As far as I can see, no one can
gain from it but the revolutionary section of the lib^uls, and
the new Parliament is likely to be elected under most danger-
ous auspices. You will find a long and very valuable aiticie
of Miss Wedgwood's on 'Autobiography,' suggested by M.
Pattison's book. But it needs (and amply repays)
over two or three times.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, August 2ud^ 1S85.
. . . Your account of the Norway flowers is inviting. But
some day I should like to run down with you in the last days of
June to High Force in Upper Teesdale, to see the abundant
Trollius and other glories of Lightfoot's domain. — Ever
affectionately yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To HIS SECOND Son
Hotel du Dom, Saas-F£e, Valais,
August 23^/, 1885.
. . . The chief excitement of this week has been Mr.
Carteigh's ascent of the Dom, the highest mountain completely
in Switzerland {Le, not counting mountains half in Italy).
Many years ago Mr. Llewelyn Davies made the first ascent,
but that was from the other side, where it is less steeply inclined.
On this side a very long climb is necessary up the fieice of a
black precipice, where snow can hardly at all lie. The coki
was so great on the rocky ridge where Mr. Carteigh and his
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 319
guides bivouacked that the brandy in his flask was frozen, and
with his feet close to the fire he could not keep them decently
warm, so that soon after midnight they had to get up and stamp
about with a lantern till the first rays of dawn appeared.
However, they got up successfully, though Mr. Carteigh had
a very narrow escape. A guide climbing above him carelessly
dislodged a huge stone. He had just time to spring aside
(happy that this was possible), so that it only brushed past him,
bruising his face and knocking out two teeth.
Most of the people here have been staying some days or
even weeks, while a certain number come and go. It is
altogether a large company — ^too large, I think, to be really
pleasant; but we get on well together. The life is quite
unlike anything I have had in the Alps before.
Arthur has doubtless told you of the butterflies he has
seen, as well as other things. The Apollo is not at all un-
common, and Swallowtails were visible a little time ago.
There are a good many magpies in the woods, and they at
times make a great noise. I was glad to hear you had had
so much success with your net I suppose you will try various
kinds of localities within reach of Cromer.
To HIS YOUNGEST SON
Hotel du Dom, Saas-Fj&e, Valais,
August 30M, 1885.
. . . The company, including Arthur, had decided they
would stay indoors no longer, but must climb the moraines
to what they (wrongly) call 'the Ch&Ut^ a sort of hut or
pavilion which I have mentioned in my letter to Edward,
perched on the narrow edge of a great moraine. It calls
itself the CaS€ of the Glacier Grotto, probably in honour of
the natural grottoes which the glacier down below it some-
times makes when great pieces break off by the effect of the
sun or the rain. The idea was to get tea there. I was asked
to go, but rather shrank from getting wet However, it seemed
about to get finer, so after all I put on waterproof things, and
followed the party as soon as I had made sure about the con-
320 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
tents of the post-bag. The rain was not then heavy, but after
a time it became worse, but I would not turn bac^ as I had
got so far. As I was climbing up the zigzags, I saw a figure
stand in the door of the Pavilion, and look down, and felt sure
some design or other was brewing. When I reached the door
and came in, there was a shout of applause. On the way they
had seen an old gentleman whom they did not want, and had
taken me for him, as I was buried in my umbrella, and they
had been trying to think what they would do when he came.
The little table was very crowded, but a comer was instantly
found for me. Besides Arthur and myself, there were Mr.
and Miss Thomas, Mr. Herbert Leaf, Miss Leaf, Miss Major,
Miss Young, and Mr. Gerald Rendall. We were a very merry
party, and astonished the good woman by the demands on her
hot water and milk. After tea was over, some little time re-
mained before it was necessary to return home, and Mr. G.
Rendall proposed a dance ! In a minute or two the table and
all upon it had been carried into the kitchen, and the
chairs piled up on a bench against the wall, all except one,
which had smashed into I know not how many pieces under
Mr. Thomas, as he lay back laughing at something or other.
I sat on a chair on the top of the bench, and the remaining
eight went through a quadrille, and then some polkaing, waltz-
ing, and Schottisch. The woman stood in her kitchen door,
bursting with laughing, and then gave us a Swiss song in
German. To conclude, somebody said we must have Sir
Roger de Coverley and leave nobody out ; so Mr. G. Rendall
took the landlady, and I took Miss Thomas, and so on, and
we went through a complete round. Such a ball-room was
never seen before. The space was about 7 foot square,
and the situation a very peculiar one. After Sir R. de C.
it was time to go down to dinner, so we paid our bill, put
on wraps, and started. Just as we had gone a few steps came
a Hash of lightning and after some little time a peal of thunder,
and this was repeated at intervals. The rain being rather
heavy, I put up my umbrella, but should have done wiser to
have waited for more level ground ; for I suppose it rather
distracted my attention from my feet, and in running down the
path down the steep moraine my foot caught a stone and sent
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 321
me flying forward down upon my face. It might have been a
serious accident, but happily I escaped with some scrapes to
my forehead and nose. I was myself again (not so my poor
umbrella !) in a few seconds, and able to go ahead with the
rest ; so that till we got home no one knew that anything had
happened except Mr. Thomas and Mr. Leaf, who chanced to
be behind.
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, September 26tk, 1885.
. . . Yesterday your mother and I were at the service in
Jesus Chapel that preceded the departure of the Master's^
remains to his parish near Wisbeach. After the lesson a
regular procession was formed, and we walked round the
cloisters and all about the principal courts to the great gate,
while a hymn was sung by the choir.
Mr. Bradshaw came back with us and joined our early
dinner. Afterwards I went with him to the University Library
and was introduced to Theodor Mommsen, the great Berlin
historian of Rome, editor of inscriptions, etc. etc. He was
hard at work collating our MSB. of some early Latin authors on
English history, Gildas and Nennius. He is a man whom I have
often wished to see.
To HIS THIRD Son
Cambridge, October 2^A, 1885.
. . . Yesterday evening I was at a meeting at the Divinity
School about the Delhi Mission, for which it is desired to obtain
fresh recruits. The heavy rain unfortunately interfered a good
deal, but still many were present We had three speeches, all
from men who had actual experience of the Mission ; first Mr.
Winter, who has had charge of the original S.P.G. Mission at
Delhi for many years, and who has worked most kindly with
the Cambridge Mission afterwards sent out ; then Mr. Bicker-
steth, who has been head of the Cambridge Mission ever since
it began its work, but had to come home from ill-health, and is
now going out to other important work in the East ; and lastly
Mr. Murray of St John's, who was one of the first who went out
» The Rev. Dr. Come.
VOL. II Y
322 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
with Mr. Bickersteth, but had to return some years ago from
ill-health, and is now teaching at Wells Diocesan College. All
three speeches were striking and full of matter. I hope that
the result may be the addition of fresh members to the Missicxi.
But what most fills our thoughts just now is the terrible and
unexpected news of the Bishop of Manchester's death. When
he and Mrs. Fraser were staying with us a year ago, he seemed
as full of life as a young man, and I looked forward to the
prospect of his doing good service to the Church for many
years to come. It will be a grievous blow to Mrs. Fraser,
whose whole soul was wrapped up in helping him in all his
manifold good works. The public loss is a very great one.
His large-hearted and generous ways had endeared him to
multitudes in the North ; and even Bishop Lightfoot has won
hardly more respect from Dissenters as well as Churchmen.
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, Ncvemher 2isl, 1885.
... Of late I have had a good deal to do, partly at
home, partly in consultation with others, in preparing for
the bringing out of Cambridge declarations or memorials
about Church Reform and about the proposed Disestablish-
ment and Disendowment of the Church. A good deal of
the work has happened to fall to me; but that has not
been at all unwelcome, as I was greatly interested in the
subjects, and anxious that a right tone should be taken on
matters on which there is only too much violence and unfair-
ness on both sides. I suppose our handiwork will be in the
newspapers in a few days. At half-past i your mother and
I are to lunch with Professor Seeley, to meet Mr. and Mrs.
Bamett of the Universities Settlement.
To THE Rev. T. J. Lawrence^
6 St. Peter's Terrace, December ist, 1885.
My dear Sir — Dr. Westcott has shown me your note
to him about the Church Reform Memorial, and told me the
^ Deputy Professor of International Law at Cambridge.
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 323
chief contents of his answer. I gather, however, that he passed
over, as too obvious to need mention, one point about which
I should be sorry that there should be misunderstanding, and
about which I am therefore tempted to write you a line in
case of doubt.
In limiting the range of reforms to be noticed in the
Memorial, the promoters certainly never dreamed of implying
that no other reforms were desirable, or even (it might be)
urgently needed. They did deliberately exclude from the
Memorial such subjects as, by their direct implication with
doctrine or other inflammable material, would only cause
confusion at present They believed (i) that what I may call
constitutional reform was intrinsically the most important
of all ; (2) that it must be carried and got into working order
before reforms affecting such matters as subscription, new
services, or the exercise of patronage (as distinguished from
its sale) could be attempted with any reasonable prospect of
success ; and (3) that to hang any such appendages on to Con-
stitutional Reform was the surest way to render it impossible.
About ulterior reforms there would certainly be much
difference of opinion among those who have signed the
Memonal, and probably among the original promoters. But
that is only an additional reason for showing that discontent
with the present state of things is felt by Churchmen of very
different schools, and that they are anxious to see the laity
admitted to their rightful place, even if some of the results
should be such as they would not themselves desire. Under
the crude dualism of Parliament and a purely clerical Con-
vocation all prc^ess is very difficult Under a better con-
stitution " provision could be made," as the last sentence of
the Memorial has it, " for meeting with greater elasticity the
growing needs of the time." — I am, my dear sir, sincerely
yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To HIS Wife
Cambridge, December StA, 1885.
Last night it was a pleasant party at King's, for Founder's
Day, which was Sunday. The Provost presided. I sat next
324 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
the Master of Jesus, and had some pleasant talk with him.
Founder's Day being the same for Eton and King's, it is
usually impossible for Eton Masters to be at King's on that
day; but this year it was purposely arranged that the two
Colleges should fix on different days in place of Sunday, and
so we had several representatives of Eton, including Mr. Warre,
the Head Master, whom I was very glad to see. Two other
great guests were Sir Richard Pollock, father of Apollo,^ and
quite a Jupiter in his own way ; and Justice Fry, a fine-looking
man of quite another type, with dark soft eyes and a very
winning mouth, not much like a judge. A speech from Oscar
Browning brought him to his legs, and drew from him a most
bright, happy little acknowledgement of the drinking of his
health. It is a real gain to have had a good look at those
three men, and to have heard two of them speak. Mr.
Bradshaw did not appear; he was said to be ^upstairs,
poorly.'
To Mr. H. Brinton
(An Oxford undergraduate, who had asked for help in difficulties
suggested by the Thirty-nine Articles, which he had to study for the — now
obsolete — examination in the ' Rudiments of Faith and Religion.')
Cambrit>gz, /oHuaty 1886.
"What does subscription involve?" This question takes
precedence of all details of this or that Article. The question
cannot, I think, be answered without reference to the history
of the Articles, and of their rise in the Church.
It so happens that the most important incident belongs to
a very recent time. In the year 1863 public attention was
much turned towards clerical subscription. This was due to
various recent circumstances, chiefly the Essays and Reviews
and Colenso controversies, and in that year a pamphlet was
published by Stanley, then Professor of Ecclesiastical History
at Oxford, which was felt as an invitation to action. In June
1863 an abstract resolution in favour of relaxation was moved
in the House of Commons by Mr. Buxton. The 'previous
^ Mr. D. N. Pollock, who acted the part] of Apollo in the Eu-
menides of i£schylu5.
AGE 57 CAMBRroCE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 325
question' was moved by Gladstone in a very temperate
and interesting speech, and supported by Disraeli in a some-
what similar general line. He threw out a suggestion that, if
anything were done, it should be by the agency of a Royal
Commission, the result of whose labours might be submitted
to a reformed Convocation. The hint was taken by the Liberal
Government, and in February 1864 a Royal Commission was
appointed, consisting of twenty-seven clergymen and laymen,
including the four Archbishops and four Bishops, " to consider
and revise the various forms of subscription and declaration,
etc. etc., and to report their opinion how they may be altered
and simplified consistently with due security for the declared
agreement of the clergy with the doctrines of the Church and
their conformity to its ritual." After a few months the Com-
mission reported, I think imanimously, in favour of certain
changes. The report came before Convocation, and it was
made known that the Crown would give leave to Convocation
for the enactment of a new canon (for the first time since its
revival) to give effect to the recommendations. Convocation
accepted the report and made the request, practically with
unanimity, though not without wry faces. A Bill was brought
into Parliament, and carried that year (1865). The new
declaration, so far as the Articles are concerned, runs thus : '^ I,
A. B., do solemnly make the following declaration : I assent
to the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion, and to the Book of
Common Prayer, eta ; I believe the doctrine of the united
Church of England and Ireland, as therein set forth, to be
agreeable to the Word of God ; and in Public Prayer, etc"
In the Commons (I quote from the Guardian of June 28th, p.
669) Mr. Buxton " admitted that the Bill did not go so far in
the way of relaxation as he could himself have wished ; but
the change it proposed was one of great importance, and the
precedent it established was of great value. Having been
himself a member of the Commission, he was in a position to
affirm that it was its express intention to relax the extravagant
stringency of the existing tests ; in other words, to make it
possible for men to minister at the altars of the Church although
they might dissent from some part of her teaching, provided,
however, they accepted it as a whole. To that last condition
326 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
they had undoubtedly felt bound to submit; in fact, it was
plain that, if such declarations were to be preserved at all, it
was essential that those who took them should be called upon
to declare virtually that they were bona fide members of the
Church whose ministers they desired to be. At the same time
the Commissioners wished to give the clergy scope for some
independence of thought. Look at the difference [he said]
between these tests and the old ones. In the latter the intend-
ing clergyman declared that ' willingly and ex animo * he gave
his ' unfeigned assent and consent to all and everything ' con-
tained and presented in and by the Book of Common Prayer,
and also that he accepted ' each and every ' of the Thirty-nine
Articles of Religion. ... It was of the greatest importance to
observe that all those phrases which indicated that the subscriber
declared his acceptance of every dogma of the Church had been
swept away, and this had been done expressly and of fore-
thought" Similarly in the speech made in Convocation by the
Dean of Ely (nowBishop of Carlisle) in proposing concurrence in
the address to the Queen, we have this statement : " Throughout
the Royal Commission there was no desire to introduce any-
thing approaching to laxity ; but it was felt, I believe, by all
the members of that body that there was a fair case set up for
altering a form which might be so interpreted as to be a
burden upon tender and sensitive consciences " {Guardian of
May 24th, p. 529).
These facts and quotations will show, I think, that within
the last twenty years a very substantial, though of course not
unqualified, relaxation of the stringency in the form of sub-
scription has been deliberately made on the authority of both
Parliament and Convocation. In recent times previous to
1865 it was not uncommon, as the Archbishop of Canterbury
stated in the House of Lords, for bishops to assure inquiring
candidates for Holy Orders that they were under no moral
obligation to accept every single doctrinal statement or impli-
cation in the Articles and Prayer-book ; that is, they practically
insisted on no more stringent subscription than has since 1865
been statutably sanctioned. Of course the wording of the old
canon was thereby overridden, and thereby a serious snare
for consciences was tolerated ; but the question whether the
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 327
bishops were justified in taking this course as the lesser of
two evils is a question that cannot be decided, I think, without
taking the previous history into account.
The most useful source of information on this history, so
far as the sixteenth century is concerned, is Hardwick's History
of the Articles of Religion^ a somewhat dry book, written in a
narrow spirit, but in good faith and with a competent know-
ledge of the chief facts. In the Appendices are reprinted the
various sets of post-Reformation Articles published in England.
The English Articles took their rise in the first instance
from the Lutheran Confession of Augsburg, written by Melanc-
thon in 1530. Friendly negotiations between Cranmer and
the leading German Reformers led in 1538 to the drawing up
of certain Articles apparently intended for both countries.
They were not completed, and remained in manuscript till the
present century. Their language is in great measure taken
from Augsburg language, for instance, in the Article on Original
Sin (p. 251 f. of Hardwick), though not without relaxations of
the stringency of Melancthon's phraseology. The Forty-two
Articles of 1552, of which our own are a revised edition, are
likewise due in the main to Cranmer. They are part of the
Church l^islation of Edward VI. 's reign. Here, too, the
Augsburg influence is strong, though chiefly, and perhaps
wholly, derived through the unfinished Articles of 1538. But
there is also a remarkable independence of treatment, both in
the arrangement and in the language. The Thirty-nine Articles
of 1562 (Latin) and 157 1 (Latin and English), which are our
present Articles, belong to quite the early years of Elizabeth,
who came to the throne in 1558; and doubtless Parker is
chiefly responsible for them. As may be seen by the reprint
arranged in parallel columns at pp. 276-279, 286-289 of Hard-
wick's book, our 9th, loth, 17th, and i8th Articles were repro-
ductions of Articles of 1552 with a few trifling changes, besides
the addition of a single sentence at the beginning of Article X.
Thus these four Articles are practically Cranmer's, on a basis
taken from Melancthon. Their tone is that of a modified
Lutheranism, specially directed against Romish doctrine.
In the latter part of the sixteenth century the influence of
such men as Calvin and Beza led to the prevalence of more
328 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap- ix
stringent doctrines on the subjects of Original Sin and I*re-
destination. Our Articles came to be regarded by many as at
least ambiguous or even lax; and the Lambeth Articles of
1595, happily never authorised and soon dropped, were an
attempt to supply a corrective of these supposed defects. But a
reaction had already begun, the traces of which are visible in
Hooker and other writers of his school. Early in the next
century the reaction grew much stronger by sympathy with the
Arminianism which had similarly sprung up in Holland; it
showed itself chiefly in men who would now be called High
Churchmen. Another reaction, of a more speculative kind,
against the stricken theology of the Reformation period, pro-
ceeded partly from Falkland's friends at or near Oxford,
partly from Whichcote and the men called 'Cambridge
Platonists.' From that time forward, say from the middle of
the seventeenth century, there has been in the English Church
no real return of the state of mind which gave birth to the
four Articles in question, though no doubt the * evangelical '
party of the present century has cherished them for the sake
of some of their contents. Thus one may say that for at least
two centuries and a half these Articles have been accepted by
at least the greatest part of the English clergy rather for their
general purport than for all their details of language.
Such being the case, the bishops had ample warrant, even
before 1865, for accepting subscription in cases where they
knew that it did not represent unqualified and entire consent
The animus imponentis of late days was very unlike the animus
imfonentis of Edward's or Elizabeth's reigns ; and it was the
least of two evils to recognise the change in the only manner
which the law allowed. It is, however, much more satisfactory
that the law itself has now been modified.
Now for the Articles themselves. On the question of
Original Sin, as on most theological questions, the wisest way
of approach is, I think, to acquire some knowledge of the chid*
controversies as a mere matter of history. This is the only
way, or at least the best way, to leam what are the chief
elements of the problem, and how they successively emerge
Nothing teaches us so much as the past experience of human
thought and feeling. For most purposes of this kind there is
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 329
no better book than Neander's Church History^ of which there
is an excellent translation in Bohn's Library. Neander unites
warm Christian faith with a singular power of sympathy with
every type of theological thought. As regards events and
institutions and externals he is unsatisfactory, though often
instructive ; but this does not interfere with his excellence as
a historian of opinion. For subjects connected with Original
Sin it is enough to read vol. iv, pp. 278-423. The volumes
are published separately.
Another book worth mentioning, of entirely different char-
acter, is Coleridge's Aids to Reflection, It is quite unhistorical,
and rambling and discursive in the extreme, but it is a book
to be read again and again.
Article IX
To clear the ground, it is worth notice that this Article
entirely ignores the Augustinian and Calvinistic notion, by no
means extinct in the present day, that the guilt of Adam's sin
is imputed to his posterity. It deals solely with men's own
sin.
' Its main point is to assert the reality of a universal flaw or
downward tendency in human nature as it now is, inherited
{fujuslibet hominis ex Adamo naturcUiter propagatt)^ not
merely arising in each case de novo after the likeness of
Adam's sin {in imitatione Adami situm).
The authors of the Article doubtless assumed the strictly
historical character of the account of the Fall in Genesis.
This assumption is now, in my belief, no longer reasonable.
But the early chapters of Genesis remain a divinely appointed
parable or apologue setting forth important practical truths on
subjects which, as matter of history, lie outside our present
ken. Whether or not the corrupted state of human nature
was preceded in temporal sequence by an incorrupt state,
this is the most vivid and natural way of exhibiting the
truth that in God's primary purpose man was incorrupt, so that
the evil in him should be regarded as having a secondary or
adventitious character. Ideal antecedence is, as it were,
pictured in temporal antecedence.
330 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ii
Again the Article pronounces the corruption {naiurs
depravatio) to deserve God's anger, and concupiscence to
"have of itself the nature of sin" {peccati in sese rttiumem
habere). This language is mainly directed against the
Romish theory that original sin was truly sin till baptism, bat
that after baptism there remained only a concupiscence which
was not itself sin. On the other hand, it avoids the unreserved
statement of the Augsburg Confession, quod hie morbus sat
vitium ariginis vere sit peccaiutn^ and doubtless was meant to
intimate that ' concupiscence ' is neither sin in the fullest sense
nor yet altogether clean of sinfulness. Whether it was wc»tfa
while to put such matter into the Article at all, may fairly be
doubted; but what is taught is, I think, in substance true.
Though the translation of thought into act involves a fresh
and distinct step in responsibility, the teaching of the Sermon
on the Mount remains true, that the real seat of sin is within ;
and further, there are not only inward acts of sin but inward
states of sin, springing out of the downward tendencies which
we all feel within us. Doubtless a state cannot be blameaUe,
and therefore sinful, unless there has been some cucepianu
of what is evil But we have not the requisite knowledge for
fixing the limits of age, if such there be, at which acceptance
becomes possible. We can only see that, as a matter of
experience of infancy, as soon as moral good becomes per-
ceptible, the shadow of evil becomes perceptible with it. And
again, as regards all ages alike, the 'concupiscence' spoken
of in the Article is of course not to be confounded with natural
instincts as such, which morally are neither good nor evil, but
is to be understood as an evil moral state, or a state veiging
towards becoming morally evil.
Now on the separate questions. ''God's wrath and con-
demnation '* do not exclude His " pity and purificatory power,^
to which I believe them to be, on the contrary, both subsidiary
and subservient. I do not see how a thing can be sin and yet
not deserve God's anger and condemnation; if it were not
morally hateful to Him, it would not be sin. Nor again, as
far as I see, could it be sin, if no fault of the human beii^
concurred in producing or maintaining it. The anger of One
who is perfect love and perfect justice, can and must perfectly
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 331
distinguish what is blameworthy from what is merely misfortune
in every atom of every man's Itfe-history.
The New Testament attributes no ' inherent badness ' to
* body.' In the early ages of Christianity the notion had a
wide currency, derived chiefly from Greek philosophy, and
afterwards from Persian religion ; and it infected a great deal
of Christian theology and morality. But it is no just inference
from St Paul's language about the flesh, when diflerent passages
are carefully compared. His ' flesh ' is sometimes the lower
nature simply, neither good nor evil in a moral sense {e.g. 2
Cor. vii. t), sometimes the lower nature usurping the control
of the whole nature. Nor did the term include only what
belongs directly to the body ; such passages as the very various
list of ''works of the flesh" in Gal. v. 20 shows that St Paul
included all low motives. So again, " the flesh desiring against
the spirit " and •* the spirit against the flesh " are phrases by
which he expresses the conflict of higher and lower motives,
the man within us that desires to follow the will of God and
the man within us that desires what is for our own pleasure or
pride. In rh (f^povrjfut r^s a-apKos (Rom. viii. 6, 7) <f>p6vrjfjLa
has nothing to do with 'wisdom,' which is doubtless men-
tioned in the Article only because the Vulgate has sapientia
in V. 7 {prudentia in v. 6). It means either what the flesh
^povttf or what pertaining to the flesh a man <l>pov€i (see the
verb in v. 5, and for St Paul's use of it compare Rom. xiL
16 bis; GaL v. 10 j Phil. i. 7 ; iiL 15 ^V, 19, etc. No single
English verb quite expresses the sense, " to have (chiefly) in
mmd ").
Part of the last question on this Article has been already
spoken of indirectly, part is insoluble. ' Heredity ' explains
nothing ; it is only a name connecting one fact of human life
with other facts of human and organic life generally. All human
actions contain two elements, what is contributed by our own
volition at the time, and oiur own antecedent state, which
again in its turn is the result partly of former volitions of our
own, partly of inherited influences, partly of influences imbibed
without our will since birtL For these last two elements we
cannot be morally responsible ; but they are there. The case
of original sin differs only by the absence of the post-natal
332 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
influences. In neither case can we be responsible in so far as
we are only involuntary receivers. On the other hand, it is
vain to ask how He who is altogether good could create
beings capable either of ' original sin ' or of what we recog-
nise as actual sins. This is part of the inscrutable mystery of
evil Nothing is easier than to cut the knot in one of two
ways, by denying the existence of evil or by denying the
existence of God. But in thus getting rid of a speculative
difficulty in a matter which we might have anticipated to lie
beyond the reach of our present faculties and knowledge, we
exchange a partially intelligible cosmos for a mere chaos.
Meanwhile the Gospel does reveal to us God as bringing good
out of evil, and makes known to us what He has done and is
doing for the extirpation of evil.
Article X
Luther in his earlier writings had denied free will alto-
gether. This Article carefully maintains it {jit velimus^
dum volumus)y but lays down implicitly that it is not the
free will of independent beings. We can will and do what is
well pleasing to God, but only in virtue of a Divine power
inspiring us. This seems to me entirely true. It is virtually
a description of religion as distinguished from the performance
of mere tasks. I should have preferred to leave out the first
few words (about the Fall), because the doctrine seems to me
to depend on our finiteness, not on our evil ; but no doubt the
presence of evil makes it a fortiori true. In Article XIII.
nothing is said about ' conscious ' faith in Jesus Christ, and I
do not see why we may not read the Article in the light of such
passages as Matt. xxv. 34-40, Rom. ii. 14-16. What is fully
true in the case of conscious and explicit faith may well be
true in lesser d^ees for lower forms of faith. This by no
means turns Article XIII. into a truism ; the acceptable spirit
is the spirit which, if Christ were made known to it, would
become faith in Him.
Nothing is said in either Article about our ' nature ' being
'evil,' though there is a sense, as noticed by Coleridge, in
which the phrase is admissible. In the more obvious sense it
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 333
belongs to Calvinism, not to the English Articles, which prac-
tically teach that our nature contains evil or is affected by evil
— a very different matter. Article X. does also teach that our
nature is weak^ as a consequence of the evil within it.
ArHcle XVII
The language of the New Testament about election seems
to me to YoN^ primary reference to bodies of men, not to in-
dividuals ; the origin of it is in the language of the Old Testa-
ment about the election of the Jewish people. Thus I do not
in the least believe that St Paul made sure that none of the
Asiatics whom he was addressing in Ephes. i. would ever fall
away. At the same time each individual would have a right
to use St Paul's language as a member of the newly-born
Christian commimity. It would be the natural expression of
his religion. If his belief in God's providential care had any
meaning, it must imply that his admission into the elect body
was itself part of God's purposes. It was impossible to think
that, if God was to be thanked for the giving of any good
thing, He was not to be thanked for the giving of this all-in-
clusive good thing. The special difficulty of the matter arises
only in reference to the negative side of it, that is, to the im-
plied contrast to others not chosen. Part of this difficulty is
merely another aspect of the one mystery of evil What the
Bible, and theology following the Bible, do here is to take
the obvious fact of experience, that every body of men bent on
high aims is surrounded by a multitude bent only on poor or
even evil aims, and to say that this fact is not outside the
counsels of God's Providence, however imperfectly we may
understand them. In the sixteenth century, however, the matter
was looked at almost exclusively from the individual side, and
at the same time reduced to an artificial simplicity and absolute-
ness. The more systematic of the Reformers, as others had
done before them, treated individual election as involving of
necessity entire and irrevocable blessing, and also as involving
of necessity 'reprobation,' that is, an entire and irrevocable
curse, due wholly to the doom of God, upon all men not so
elected. The English Articles dwell solely on the positive side
334 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, n
of the doctrine, and then add two important warnings. Fis^
they recognise the danger of despair, or else, antinomianxsia,
from the giving of excessive prominence to the doctrine ; ani
next they implicitly teach that it is after all only one aspect d
the truth, not to be taken as setting aside the broad teaching
of the whole Bible about God's promises and expositioD of
His wilL The Articles do not set forth, but neither do tbej
contradict, what seems to me the clear (hift of Romans ix.-xL,
the three chapters in which the subject is most fully treated,
that election is not a single and absolute decree, but rather the
method of God's providence in its successive stages, so tim
non-election at one time is compatible with election at a later
time, and moreover that election is not simply for the bene£:
of the not yet elect ; that is, that it is election to a distinctrse
function in a long and comprehensive order of things. Wlies
once the crude individualism of our common notions d
* salvation ' is corrected, the idea of Divine election puts od
quite a different aspect.
The difficulty of predestination in relation to free will is
part of the mystery of Providence. It is purely speculative,
not moral. Both thoughts are involved in the thought of a
living God, the Maker and Lord of men ; but they belong to
different spheres, as it were, which we have not the Acuities
for adjusting together. As a matter of experience, it is usually
men that have the strongest sense of the supremacy of God's
fore-ordaining will who have also the keenest sense of their owd
responsibility to Him.
Arfic/e XVIII
This Article does not seem to me to be happily expressed
It may be easily understood as setting forth a doctrine which
the authors may very possibly have had in their own minds,
and which appears to me utterly untenable. But it is founded
on a principle, taken expressly from Acts iv. 12 and more or
less directly from other passages, which I believe to be troe
and in the highest degree important. Here, as before, all
turns on what we mean by being * saved.* I understand by
it, as I think the Bible does, being brought to perfection, both
negatively and positively, being freed from stain and corruption,
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 335
and being ripened to the highest excellence compatible with
human or individual limitations ; now the Bible and experience
agree, I think, in teaching us that the cardinal instrument of
this process of salvation is the faith and knowledge of God,
and that the cardinal and only adequate means of attaining a
true faith and knowledge of God is die faith and knowledge of
His Incarnate Son (John xvii. 3). Jews and heathen before
Christ came, and non-Christians now, were and are, I believe,
in this life capable only of lower forms of salvation, varying end-
lessly in worth, partly according to theuse made of opportunities.
Their knowledge of God was, I believe, also a knowledge of Him
through His Son, who, as His * Word,' was, as St. John teaches
us (l 4, 5), the Light of men, shining in their darkness, though
not recognised by them. But it was a knowledge far inferior
to that which is made possible by the Gospel.
On the other hand, the doctrine condemned in the Article
ignores this Divine process, and resolves God's dealings with
men into a mere prize-giving and prize-refusing, in which the
one uniform prize is something altogether separate from the
performance which wins it, and nothing more is demanded of
the prize-giver than to see fair-play. Doubtless the Article
fails to do justice to the instinct of natural equity which
suggested this doctrine (probably as a reaction from an equally
shallow and far more immoral substitution of acceptance of
Christian tenets as the condition of success in a similar prize-
giving), or even to the express teaching of Romans iL and the
implicit teaching of many other passages. But it was also a
true instinct, I believe, which led the authors of the Article to
uphold a principle of which it is likely enough that they very
imperfectly understood the true purport
In all these Articles, however, it is of the utmost consequence
to remember that there is great risk of missing the true force
of a doctrine when it is looked at separately, disconnected
from the rest of Christian belief, and therefore out of propor-
tion. The character of God, as revealed in the Gospel, is the
foundation that underlies the whole. Difficulties about means
become less, when we remember that the ends to which they
are means are the saving purposes of One who cannot be un-
just and who is Himself Love.
336 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ii
Article XXII
I do not remember what Kingsley says about puigatorj,
and it seems hardly worth while to hunt it up. Nothing, I
think, can be clearer than that the Article does not condemn aU
doctrine that may be called a doctrine of punitory. It
condemns specifically the Roman doctrine of purgatory, and
that in connexion with the Roman doctrines of indulgences,
of the worshipping of images and relics, and of the invocation
of saints. It is thus morally certain that the authors had in
view the doctrine as bearing on religious practice, and as cod-
(licting with the Reformed doctrines of justification and the
like ; a specially conspicuous fruit of it being the performance
of masses to deliver souls out of purgatory. The epithets
employed confirm this interpretation; a doctrine sustaining
delusive practices of this kind would with special propriety be
called resfutilis, inaniter conficta,
'Purgatory' is an ambiguous term. It is conunonlj
understood as literally a place of purgation. Most instructed
Roman Catholics would decline to insist on its being literally
a place, and would prefer to say that by a natural figure a
state is spoken of as if it were a place. ' Purgatory ' is not a
word that I should myself spontaneously adopt, because it is
associated with Roman theories about the future state for
which I see no foundation. But the idea of purgation, of
cleansing as by fire, seems to me inseparable from what the
Bible teaches us of the Divine chastisements ; and, though
little is directly said respecting the future state, it seems to me
incredible that the Divine chastisements should in this respect
change their character when this visible life is ended
Neither now nor hereafter is there reason to suppose that
they act mechanically as by an irresistible natural process,
irrespectively of human will and acceptance. But I do not
believe that God's purposes of love can ever cease towards us
in any stage of our existence, or that they can accomplish
themselves by our purification and perfection without painful
processes. It has been well said that the heaviest sentence
which could be pronounced on a sinful man would be, " Let
him alone."
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 337
Hence, while the language of the Article does not appear to
me at all too strong in condemnation of the Roman doctrine
of purgatory, involving as that does very mischievous super-
stitions, I do not hold it contradictory to the Article to think
that the condemned doctrine has not been wholly injurious,
inasmuch as it has kept alive some sort of belief in a great and
important truth. — F. J. A. H.
In thanking for these answers to his questions Mr.
Brinton asked for further light as to the meaning of
Article XIII. " Can we say," he asked, " that there is a
faith in Christ, when it is unconscious, and when the
very idea that the action was done for Christ's sake
might perhaps be repudiated ? . . . Does not faith
mean ' conscious ' acceptance ? " To this question the
following reply was sent : —
To Mr. H. Brinton
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
January 3IJ/, 1886.
. . . The principle underlying Article XIII. seems to me to
be this, that there are not two totally different modes of access
to God for men, faith for Christians, meritorious performance
for non-Christians. There is but one mode of access, faith ;
and but one perfect and, as it were, normal faith, that which
rests on the revelation in the person of Jesus Christ But
faith itself, not being an intellectual assent to propositions, but
an attitude of heart and mind, is present in a more or less
rudimentary state in every upward effort and aspiration of
men. Doubtless the faith of non-Christians (and much of
the faith of Christians, for that matter) is not in the strict
sense * faith in Jesus Christ ' ; and therefore I wish the Article
were otherwise worded. But such faith, when ripened, grows
into the faith of Jesus Christ; as also it finds its rational
justification in the revelation made through Him. Practically
the principle of the Article teaches us to regard all the good
VOL. II Z
338 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, xx
there is in the world as what one may call imperfect Chrtstianitj^,
not as something essentially different, requiring, so to speak,
to be dealt with by God in a wholly different manner. Of
course I take for granted that acceptance of the Christian
creed is not identical with Christian faith, but only the
necessary condition of its existence in the highest or strictly
Christian form.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, /afiiMir^' \2tk, 1886.
... A letter ^ has come to-day from Mr. Coley, who has
doubtless written to you and our colleagues, about ' non-con>-
municating attendance.' . . .
As far as I see at present, the only shadow of evidence for
the practice in ante-Nicene times is a curious passage of
Clement {Strom, i. 5) which shows that some left the elements for
the people themselves to take, so that any one deciding at last
to abstain, might abstain without positive refusal of a proffered
portion ; but this is different in principle. And, as far as I
see, the fourth century knew the practice only either as a
penal privation (for the Consistentes) or as a popular irr^ularity
condemned by the bishops.
It is, I imagine, best not to touch needlessly on the question
of sacrifice, though that is no doubt at the bottom of the
practice, so far as it is not a mere aping of unreformed
usage. — Ever affectionately yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To the Rev. J. Colev
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambru>ge,
January 14/A, 1886.
2 My dear Sir — ^To the best of my knowledge there is no
evidence for the practice of Non-Communicating Attendance
in at least the first four centuries, except either as a penal
privation inflicted on one class of penitents, or as a popular
* See next letter.
^ This letter, in answer to an inquiry from Mr. Coley, was published
in a newspaper.
J
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 339
abuse rebuked by authority. The doctrinal grounds on which
it is defended appear to me to receive no support from Scrip-
ture or from any formulary of the Church of England ; and
the results to which it naturally leads are in my belief disastrous.
— I am, my dear sir, very faithfully yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To Dr. C. R. Gregory
Cambridge, February 15M, 1886.
My dear Dr. Gregory — ^You cannot tell how welcome your
card was this morning. All this year I have been constantly
wondering what your present movements were, and what the
next would be. I did not know that it was safe to write to
your Leipzig address. But ever since Thursday last I have
been especially desiring the power of writing to you, though
the purpose was of the saddest
Last Wednesday evening Bradshaw dined out with a small
party of near friends. Of late he has been often depressed ;
that evening he was his brightest and tenderest self, I am told.
At half-past ten the party broke up with merry talk, and he
walked home to King's. At half-past seven in the morning
his boy found him sitting in his chair a corpse. He had
evidently sat down at once on coming in, without even taking
off his comforter ; he had put on his spectacles, but had not
opened the book which lay before him, with his Bible near it.
Some think he had fallen asleep, and never woke ; it may be
so, or the death-stroke may have fallen instantly. His face
was perfectly calm, and death is said to have been absolutely
instantaneous. . . . He certainly did not expect to live long,
though he seems hardly to have expected the end to be so
very near. He always, like a true scholar, desired to die in
harness. This afternoon we have been burying him in the
ante-chapel of King's. . . .
Cambridge will be another place henceforth to me and to
a few others. The loss to learning is irreparable ; the loss to
true and always helpful nobility still more so. He radiated
goodness wherever he went To helpless and forlorn strangers
he was as a father.
340 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, February 20ik^ 1886.
. . . Mr. Biadshaw fills all our thoughts just now. The
loss to the University is irreparable, even more for his goodn
than his greatness; though indeed the two were almost the
same in him, no small part of his greatness coming from
his perfect industry, perfect truthfulness and justice, and
perfect unselfishness and humility. He had been a dear
friend of mine for above thirty-five years, and of late years
hardly a week passed without my having fresh occasion to
know the value of his friendship. The funeral in King's
Chapel on Monday was a very striking one. Dr. Westcott
read the service at the grave, and the final blessing was
pronounced by the Archbishop of Canterbury, a very intimate
friend of Mr. Bradshaw's. He came down from London on
purpose, though he had to open Convocation next day. It
was a great comfort to have two such men, with two such
voices.
To Mr. J. M. Ludlow
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Camb&idgb,
February 22ndf 1886.
... I am even later with Drummond^ than you. I
bought the book not long after it came out, and began to
read it, but was interrupted, and have never resumed it. I
do fully mean to read it ; but I confess I found the interest
of it to lie mainly in the author, evidently a fresh and genuine
man. It seemed to me a quite singularly muddle-headed
book, and to illustrate afresh, what by this time hardly needs
illustration, the powerlessness of the mere love [lore?] of
natural science to teach men to think.
What you say on politics pretty exactly agrees with my own
feeling, except that I have never been or called myself a
Radical. The shameless opportunism of the Cabinet made it
impossible to desire their continuance in office. Gladstone,
1 i\e. Natural Law in the Spiritual World,
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 341
who seems to me each year to soar higher morally above other
politicians, seems to me also to be discarding convictions for
feelings and wishes, and dragging us into deeper and deeper
quagmires. He refuses, for instance, to see that we Irish are
children still in so far as we are allowed to keep to ourselves ;
and that to treat us otherwise is to condemn us to perdition.
Only a day or two before your letter came I had been turning
over the early pages of Politics far the People^ and wishing that
like words could be heard now. — ^Very sincerely yours,
F. J. A. HoRT.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Cambridge, February z^rd, 1886.
. . . You will, I know, have been sharing our grief and
— ^in the English, not French, sense— desolation at dear
Bradshaw's death. I forget whether I told you that on
coming home last September I was shocked to hear that in
August he had one night had violent bleeding at the nose
for above six hours. After a few days in bed he had gone
off on a little tour in France with Robertson Smith, who
watched tenderly over him ; and in due time he came back in
word and appearance well and certainly cheerful. No doubt,
like the rest of us, he felt it to be a warning of possible apo-
plexy, and there were various signs during the winter that he
was thinking of health more than usual On the average he
was brighter than of late years, but now and then was depressed
without apparent reason. One Monday morning in December
his place at the Council table was empty, and the Vice-
Chancellor read a letter from him resigning his membership
of the Council, General Board of Studies, and Press Syndicate.
The first of the three offices he cheerfully agreed to keep, the
two others he resolutely put aside. The only reason he would
give me was that he wanted to do more justice to the Library.
He certainly was feeling painfully the extreme difficulty of
carrying on and finishing any of his own pieces of literary work
under the treble pressure of Library, University business, and
the very long calls which he allowed a multitude of friends.
342 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
young and old, to make in his rooms. After Chiistmas he
was not quite so well, but there was no marked change. For
three or four weeks before his death I saw less of him than
usual, for he had leaped up, as it were, in response to a fresh
appeal from Christopher Wordsworth to finish his long-
promised history of the editions of English Service Books for
the last volume of the Cambridge reprint of the Sarum
Breviary ; and till it was done he could not come with me
for a little walk after library hours, as he used often to doL
. . . The University has lost not only a man of rare critical
genius and knowledge, but its wisest, kindliest, and most
truthful counsellor, at a time when such men are becoming
sorely needed. To myself, personally, Cambridge will be a
diflferent place now. The power of sympathy and counsel
which he could give on almost any matter I do not know
where to find in anything like the same degree in any one
else now residing here.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Cambridge, February 26M, 18S6.
... As regards the word * celebration * (used nakedly), is
it not better avoided in a book ^ which you mean for men of
all parties in the Church ? It is rather convenient, and con-
ventionally has no particular meaning. But (i) I imagine
that de facto it came in from Roman Catholic usage, and
meant cekbratio misses ; (2) it rather suggests the performance
of a rite by the individual officiant, rather than an act of the
Church; and (3) it is certainly a stumbling-block to Evan-
gelicals. If you think you must keep it, I should suggest
your adding a quiet footnote, explaining and limiting your
meaning. All through I think it would be a gain if you
were to re-read the mere wording with the eyes of an Evan-
gelical, though there is nothing substantial that ought to
give offenca
1 Ellerton's Tke Great Indwelling {Thoughts m the reUUion oftkt Holy
Communion to the Spiritual Life),
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 343
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
6 St. Peter's Terrace, March iisf, 1886.
... I am afraid I expressed myself badly about Fasting
Commimion. I did not at all mean that it would be well
that in your book you should condemn it But your language
seemed to me to contain a probably unintended implication
that it was in itself the right thing, though not to be rigidly
enforced; and this seemed a needless departure from neu-
trality ; neutrality being all, I meant to argue, that the practice
had any right to claim. Its antiquity is no doubt considerable,
for it is found in the second half of the fourth century (the
passage cited from Tertullian Ad uxortm refers, I believe, to
a very different practice). But by that time materialistic views
were widely spread.
All 1 meant with reference to 'Apostolic Communion'
was that according to the language of the New Testament, and
the natural inference from its records of apostolic practice, the
corporate communion was not merely a universal characteristic
of the Eucharist, but its very essence. Before all things it is
the feast of a brotherhood united in a Divine- Head, setting
forth as the fundamental law of their existence the law of
sacrifice, towards each other and towards Him, which had
been made a reality by His supreme Sacrifice. This is entirely
obscured in the Roman and Anglican rites alike ; and I meant
to say that the ' rail-ful ' mode of administration does preserve
some sort of reminiscence of it. I confess I should be afraid
to divide the two sentences in the way you suggest, feeling
sure it would suggest a materialistic interpretation; for the
converse division {i,e, with the present order), and " given for
you," there is, I think, much to be said.
I have tried in vain to find any evidence whatever for the
use of Nunc Dimittis after the Communion, though I have
several books (Protestant and Roman Catholic) where it must
have been mentioned if known, and others where it might
naturally have been mentioned. (The only exception is in the
l^end of Mary of Egypt, who is said to have uttered it be-
tween Communion and death in the desert on the same day ;
344 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, n
— hardly an exception !) But it is very hard to get at evidenoe
on such points for strictly medieval times. One might con-
jecture that the usage would not be long in springing up aiter
the introduction of the Latin or post-consecration Elevatioii,
which seems to date from the eleventh century. One cannot
say that it is inappropriate at the close of any religious service,
though ancient custom links it with evening use with special
propriety. But surely there is very great and real danger of its
being interpreted of a visidle 'salvation,' and the *' Behold
your God" of the wafer. Za Messe no doubt contains
(hardly *is') Phangile ; but it also contains much at vari-
ance with VtuangUe^ and one would not willingly encourage
practices, however intrinsically innocent, which naturally give
importance to those unevangelic elements.
By the way, I must not forget to mention that on looking
again at the rubrics about the Canticles I came to the con-
clusion that I had too hastily assented to the view that Jubiiak
is meant to be used only when Benedicius is in the Gospel or
Lesson. I now think, as I believe I did ages ago, that in
Morning and Evening Prayer alike the Old Testament and
New Testament Canticles are placed exactly on a level; I
cannot otherwise understand " Or." Why the restrictive ex-
ception is put on the New Testament Canticle alone in the
morning and on the Psalms alone in the evening, I cannot
guess ; but I do not think it has any bearing on the question
of relative dignity. It is, I see, a freak (? a * fluke ') of 1662.
To THE Rev. Dr. Milligan
6 St. Peter's Terrace, Cambridge,
ApHl 30/A, 1886.
. . . You have often been in my mind during the
last few months in connexion with public affairs. On the
whole the signs of the times, dark enough in most quarter^
appear to me more encouraging as regards your Church
than I had ventured to hope a year ago. I trust this is
not the illusion of a distant but assuredly not uninterested
spectator.
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 34S
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, March Stk, 1886.
My dearest Frank — One line I must send you to greet you
on your eighteenth birthday. Every blessing be upon you,
my dearest boy, in the year that it begins, and in all the
coming years of which this year will be a fruitful entrance for
good or evil, if God spares you to enter on them ! It is a
day not merely for forming fresh resolutions and kindling and
strengthening them with fresh prayer, but also for beginning
some new habit, to be henceforth continued daily, which may
be a constant reminder of the new year, and a constant help
towards living worthily of it. A little bit of quiet, serious
reading will do much to keep each day touched with the
Divine presence ; but it will be hardly less helpful to secure
each day a definite piece of what one may call instructive
reading — reading which will give you some knowledge of
what our forefathers in various nations have thought and felt
and done.
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, March 12M, 1887.
. . . Your birthday was a great day in Cambridge. The
Local Lectures, in different parts of England, which were set
on foot soon after we came to Cambridge, a good deal under
Professor Stuart's and Dr. Westcott's influence, have reached
a point at which it was thought desirable to invite represent-
atives of local committees to a conference with University
authorities, and they were duly received in the Senate-
House by the Vice- Chancellor in the chair. There were
long meetings in both morning and afternoon, with many
interesting speeches, especially one by Dr. Westcott which
evidently made a great impression. All went off in the
pleasantest way. The local representatives and many of
ourselves, with a few ladies, lunched together in St. John's
Hall. Mr. G. F. Browne kept admirable order and punctuality.
On Thursday Bach's Passion Music (founded on St Matthew)
was performed in King's, and very beautiful and interesting it was.
346 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, n
To HIS ELDEST SON
Pensions Mad. Jennings,
71 CORSO DEI TiNTORI, FlORBNCB,
April Z^d-Sthi 1886.
. . . In the forenoon of Monday we left Milan with mudi
regret, having liked our hotel and had a mere glimpse at
the sights of the place. We had a quiet and comfortable
journey of five hours, passing several very interesting places
which it was tantalising not to see, especially Piacenza,
Parma, and Modena. We reached Bologna at 4.40. . . .
That evening we had a stroll a little way into the city, to
look at the picturesque piazza and the huge brown mas of
St Petronio, in which Charles V. was crowned, and to get oui
letters. Our train was to start at 6 a.m. We could not have
gone later without losing half the precious day for Ravenna.
The train was exceedingly slow, stopping at every station, and
that for some minutes ; but that was a misfortune only as
consuming time. The previous day, from the time we had
passed Piacenza, we had been running along the old line of
the Via Aemiliay parallel to the Apennines on their E.N.E.
side at no great distance, and had much enjoyed the varying
outline, with peeps of opening valleys, and here and there
higher tops still covered with snow. It was the same 00
Tuesday with the Apennines still nearer, and with the deaicst
early morning light, till we reached Castel Bolognese Junction,
just half way. There we changed carriages and left the
Hadriatic line to run on to Rimini and Brindisi on the way
to Alexandria and the East, and struck off to the left across a
rich level plain covered with mulberry and other low planted
trees, looped together by now leafless vines. At length the
towers of Ravenna became visible against the low sky, we
steamed slowly half round the city, and stopped at 10.
There are only two decent inns in the place, both said to be
very rough. We went to the Spada d'Oro, and found it quite
comfortable in all matters worth thinking of, though certainly
not cheap. Your mother boiled the water, as the place is too
far from hills to have an aqueduct, and depends on its wells;
but there was not a sign of a mosquito, and I should have
AGB 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 347
stayed a week without scruple if we could have spared the
time.
It is hard to know where to begin or end about Ravenna.
Some, at all events, of oiu* party will not know that it is the
place which has preserved unchanged more of the old Roman
world than any other place now existing, except of course in a
certain way Pompeii; and its remains are in themselves far
more interesting than the frivolities of Pompeii. Besides the
Middle Ages, and the centuries just before the Middle Ages, it
represents three short but important periods — the last genera-
tions of the expiring Western Empire, when the emperors made
it the capital of Italy on account of the security given by the
neighbouring marshes ; the kingdom of the Goths, and especi-
ally of Theodoric, a really great king, surrounded by remark-
able men ; and thirdly, the rule of the Greek exarchs or viceroys
of the Eastern or Constantinople Empire, after Ravenna had
been taken from the Goths by Belisarius, the great general of
the Emperor Justinian, himself the l^slator who founded the
law of most of the countries of Europe as it still in great measure
exists. The remains are partly buildings, partly mosaics in
the buildings. The buildings themselves are of great archi-
tectural interest, from the various early forms in which they
are constructed; and the mosaics are in fact contemporary
pictures, often beautiful, far more beautiful than I had imagined,
and always full of curious interest We wanted, however, a
fortnight for them, rather than parts of two days.
After depositing our goods at the hotel, we walked first to
San Vitale, an octagonal church, with an apse added by way
of a choir, consecrated in 547. It was pardy copied from the
great church of St. Sophia which Justinian had recently built
at Constantinople (still existing as the mosque best known by
the same name) ; and in its turn Charles the Great (Charle-
magne), who was much impressed by Ravenna, took San
Vitale as the model of the cathedral which he built at Aachen
(Aix-la-Chapelle). The columns are most beautiful, with
Byzantine capitals of various patterns, and the effect of the
whole is very striking. The roof and arch of the apse are
covered with rich mosaics, partly with sacred subjects, partly
with representations of Justinian, the bishop, and other
348 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, n
attendants, making offerings on the one side, and his strange
empress Theodora and her ladies similarly employed on tbe
other side. The vividness of the gazing of those £Eu:es, as
they have gazed for more than 1300 years, was startlin^y im-
pressive. A time later still was represented by the tomb d
one of the exarchs in a recess leading out of the church. Not
many steps off we came to another building of at least equal
interest, a century older, the mausoleum of the empress Galb
Placidia, daughter of Theodosius the Great It is quite a
small cruciform building, not fifty feet long, and deddedh
dark. At the end farthest from the entrance is the enonnoa
and somewhat rude stone ark or tomb of Galla Fbada
herself, formerly covered with plates of silver, in wWch she
was buried sitting. The arms of the cross contain similarfj
shaped tombs or arks of two emperors, her brother Honori»
and her brother Constantine III. It is said that these ait
the only tombs of Roman emperors that now remain in ^
original position. Overhead in the vaulting are exquisitt
mosaics, likewise of the fifth century, with less technical ski
than those of San Vitale, but better in colour and with tnw
life in the designs, which are of quite simple sacred subjects
From the mausoleum we came home to our dinner at 123°'
and then went off to see the Baptistery beside the Duomoor
Cathedral It is probably the oldest of ail the eriAg
buildings, perhaps half a century older than the empress
mausoleum, octagonal in shape, but without the inner cdco-
nades of San Vitale, and many times smaller. The roof aw
upper parts of the walls are covered with striking mosaics «
the fifth century, representing the Baptism in the Jordan, the
Apostles, and other sacred subjects. After seeing the W
tistery we took a drive never to be forgotten. Augustus
made Ravenna the chief station of the Roman fleet, build^
a harbour on the shore of the Hadriatic, called Classis, an*
connecting it by a canal with Ravenna. Our first object «as
the sole relic of Classis. After a drive of above half an h(fs
between flat swampy fields, diversified only by the channel ot
the Ronco and another river, we came to the great desola^
looking church of Santo Apollinare in Classe, with a lofty
bell-tower beside it, round, like most of the Ravenna bdl-
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 349
towers. (Just then we had a short shower, the only rain seen
since leaving England, except a few drizzly drops at Luzem.)
The interior is very imposing. It is in form a basilica, a vast
oblong open space, with two aisles divided off by rows of
columns. Here and there round the walls are ranged a
wonderful series of stone sarcophagi of early bishops of
Ravenna, some of them with very beautiful or curious carving.
On the place where the triforium would be in a large church
of N.W. Europe, there is a series of medallion portraits of
bishops of Ravenna, 126 in number, — of course imaginary as
regards a good many heads. At the E. end (if it ts E.,
about which I am not certain) there are some fine mosaics of
the sixth century, partly of historical personages, but chiefly
of sacred subjects. We spent an hour here, and longed for
much more. Even if there had been less to see, the wonder-
ful church in its wonderful position was difficult to leave.
There was, however, the Pineta to be seen, and so we had to
drive ofl*, among wetter and less fragrant marshes than before.
Presently we left our excellent road, which ran along the
coast towards Rimini, and followed a very rough country road
beside a canal, which, after a while, we crossed and almost
immediately found ourselves within the famous Pineta or
pine-forest of Ravenna, referred to in a well-known passage
of Dante as well as in various later books. It was in all
probability originally a long narrow flat island parallel to the
shore, to which it is now joined by the marshes formed by the
choking up of the rivers. It is covered with magnificent stone-
pines, two thirds of which were, however, killed by frost two
or three winters ago ; and there is under them much brush-
wood of juniper, butcher's broom, and other bushes, with
grassy spots between. * We poked about for about half an
hour, and I aimed my camera at the stone-pines ; but we
.found hardly any flowers out as yet. About five we started
homewards, and reached Ravenna just after six. On Wednesday
morning we went to a church rather near at hand, now called
San Spirito, a fine basilica erected by Theodoric for his own
(Arian) communion ; and then, a few steps back, to Sta.
Maria in Cosmedin, originally the Gothic or Arian baptistery,
and octagonal like the other baptistery. On the extinction of
350 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, n
the Gothic kingdom in the sixth century the dome was covered
with mosaics, partly resembling those of the other baptisteiy,
but by no means copied from them. Built into the adjoiniog
wall are some curious and rather pretty crosses dug up od the
spot, and supposed to be of Gothic origin. Then crossisg
the street by which we had entered the city, we came to Su
Giovanni Evangelista, a basilica originally built by Galh
Placidia, but now much altered. It has a graceful west frost
of Italian Gothic and a specially beautiM bell-tower. The
frescoes have all vanished, but we saw some very cuiioos
remains of the original pavement. The next church was i
very remarkable one, San Apollinare Nuovo, a basilica boik
by Theodoric as the Arian Cathedral and dedicated to &
Martin. It has twenty-four marble columns brought fton
Constantinople. When Ravenna came under the Eastan
empire in the sixth century, two magnificent lines of mosaics
were set up in the place answering to our triforium, on the
N. a procession of female saints coming out of the dtjd
Classis and headed by the Magi bringing offerings to the
Holy Family, and on the S. side a similar procession of male
saints coming out of Ravenna and advancing towards oor
Lord enthroned. Above each of these two marvellous pro-
cessions are two smaller series of mosaics very interesting in
their own way. In fact the church needs a week for studying
it After our short examination of it we came home, and
then sallied out in a different direction. First came Daote's
tomb, a rather heavy and square little semi-classical building
but mainly in quiet and good taste. The position pleased as
much. The tomb joins on to a kind of chapel with open
sides, containing stately and carved ancient tombs of varioos
dates ; and this again joins on to the church of San Francesco,
with a small green piazza in front The whole was a much
more appropriate memorial of Dante than the ambitfoos
statues of him which every large Italian town thinks it conoct
to put up. Further down the city we came to Sta. Agiti, «
large damp church with two rows of very ancient columDS.
There were some poor remains of mosaics in the aps^ ^
rest having been shaken down by an earthquake long aga
Many of the tessera were preserved in a sort of cupboard, and
AGB 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 351
the sacristan gave your mother a few, which she carried off
with great satisfaction. From S. Agata we came home to
dinner. Later (see below) we came back to the Duomo, in
itself a dull and pretentious modem building, but containing
some interesting remains from an older building (the oldest is
said to have been built a.d. 400 !), such as two fine marble
coffins of the sixth century, a beautiful silver cross attributed
to the same time, an elaborate circular calendar for calculating
Easter from 532 to 626, and above all an exquisitely carved
ivory throne of Bishop Maximian, of the fifth and sixth
centuries. From the Duomo we went to the adjoining
Archiepiscopal palace to see the mosaics of its chapel, origin-
ally of the fifth and sixth centuries, and very interesting.
The place of honour was occupied by an eleventh century
mosaic Madonna with a saint of the same date on each side.
The original occupant of the place had been thrust away into
a comer out of the way, a striking mosaic figure of our Lord
with a thin cross carried on His right shoulder, and in His
hand a book or scroll with the words Ego sum via et Veritas et
vita. We were obliged to dispense with a projected second
visit to the Baptistery. Immediately after dinner we went to
get some photographs, and then took a short drive outside the
town in the direction opposite to Classe to a building very
unlike any of the rest, nothing less than the mausc^eum or
tomb of Theodoric himself, believed to have been built by
his daughter. It is like a low decagonal tower, and except
for two staircases erected on one side, it remains very little
altered extemally. By great good fortune it was in early
times used as a church, and so was preserved from destructioiL
It stands alone in the midst of green fields a Httle outside the
city walls. I ought to have mentioned above that on our
way to Classe we passed the fagade which is all that remains
of Theodoric's palace. From his tomb we drove to the
Duomo and Archbishop's chapel, about which I said some-
thing just now, but prematurely. On retuming to the hotel
we had just time to get off comfortably by train at 4.30, and
after half an hour's wait at Castel Bolognese we reached
Bologna at 9. So ended the part of our tour which will,
I think, have left a deeper impression than any other.
352 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chaf. n
Thursday was devoted to seeing something of Bologna.
It is not a place of great sights, but extremely picturesque is
many parts. The more important streets have an arcade oa
each side, like one street that you may remember at Thnn,
and some streets of Chester. There are two remaikab^
towers, both unfortunately leaning, one of them of great
height We were able only to make a short selection of
what we most cared to see. First we went to San Giacomo
Maggiore, a laige and handsome church, with various notal^
paintings, and especially a great Madonna of Francia's ; ad-
joining it was the chapel of St. Cecilia, with a striking series
of frescoes illustrating her legend by Franda and his pupils.
Making a small circuit to see a very beautiful court sur-
rounded with light open porticoes in front of Sta. Maria dei
Servi, we came to what is architecturally much the most
interesting church of Bologna, San Stefano, formed of seven
different churches joined together, not all at the same levd.
Two of them (besides windows of a third), and probably more
than two, are of great antiquity, one of them, S. Sepolcro,
formerly the Baptistery, being like a small San Vitale (of
Ravenna, I mean). On our way home to 'breakfsist'
{follazione^ our early dinner), we came through the huge
and imposing but for the most part ugly mass of San Petrooia
The afternoon was practically devoted to two things, die
Pinacotheca, or public Picture Gallery, and San Domenica
The gallery had the advantage of being rather small, and, as
we did not care to give much time to the later Bolognese
painters (the Caracci, Guido, eta), we were able to see veiy
fairly the part that we cared for most, the works of the earlier
Bolognese, especially Lorenzo Costa and Francia and bis
pupils. There were also a first-rate Rafifaelle (St Cecilia) and
Perugino, and some good specimens of the little known
earliest Venetian masters. San Domenico has unfortunately
been utterly disfigured by modem changes, but cannot lose its
peculiar interest St Dominic himself (in whom we have a
special concern at Emmanuel, as having succeeded to the
Dominican site in Cambridge) lies buried there, and is
represented by a magnificent monument in the S. transept,
covered with the work of the best early sculptors. In the
AGE 57 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 353
now desolate -looking cloister close by were held the first
chapters of his Order of Friars, which, with the twin order of
Franciscans, set on foot the greatest and most effectual
reforming movement of the Middle Ages, from early in the
thirteenth century ; till at last they sunk into corruption, as
the old monastic orders which they attacked had sunk before
them, and so they had to give place to the better instructed
Reformers of the sixteenth century. Two other remarkable
personal memorials are in this church, a very early portrait 01
the great Dominican schoolman, Thomas Aquinas (a great
power even in the present day), taken apparently when he
was young; and a mask taken from the face of St Philip
Neri, the founder of the Oratorian Order in the sixteenth
century. Outside the church on the wide piazza are two
columns with statues, and two very beautiful tombs supported
on columns. On our way home we came again through San
Petronio, and looked into the Duomo (which was close to our
hotel), a dismal, sumptuous, modem pile, preserving inside
two forlorn stone lions, which no doubt once supported the
columns of an early Western portal. One other building I
should have mentioned, the Palazzo della Mercanzia, or
Chamber of Commerce, a lovely Italian Gothic building, on
which we stumbled by accident in the morning.
On Friday morning we were up betimes, and started by
train for Bologna at 7.30, and almost immediately were
beginning to ascend the valley of the Reno (an Italian Rhine !)
through its windings among the Apennines. The scenery
was nowhere striking, but almost always pleasant and interest-
ing, with an occasional peep at a higher top still capped with
snow. The timnels were endless. The descent on the
Tuscan side was much more rapid and very fine, as we wound
about and about down to the picturesque old city of Pistoja,
which we hope to see better next week. Then came an hour
or more along the valley of the Amo, past Prato. In the
Apennines we had seen little but Hepaticas, primroses, and
we thought crocuses ; but now we often saw Anemones in the
grassy strips between the orchards ; scarlet and purple of the
common kind, and purple of the starry kind. By 1.30 we
were at Florence.
VOL. II 2 A
354 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, nc
To THE Rev/ John Ellerton
Cambridge, May 9/A, 1886.
[After an account of the joumey^out, and of Ravenna.]
. . . On the Friday we took the half-past seven train, so
as to reach Florence soon after one, left our goods at the
station, and walked off to explore. . . . We were settled
before dinner. The view opposite was an unceasing delight,
— San Miniato and Michael Angelo's fortifications surrounding
hills and dales of orchard and garden dying away into the
southern quarter of the city on the right \ and on the left the
river and open country leading up to the Apennines. We
were just in the longitude of Santa Croce, and very close to ix
over the roofs, not far even by the streets.
. . . On April i6th we went early to Siena, and spent
Saturday and Palm Sunday there. It is a very bewitching place,
which I am very thankful not to have missed. E^ly on the
Monday we went to Pisa, saw the great sights that afternoon,
spent Tuesday (by return tickets) at Lucca, a very impressive
place, and on Wednesday saw more of Pisa, and the Cathedral
and Baptistery (not, alas ! the Campo Santo) a second time
Thursday we ran through from Pisa by Genoa to Milan. On
Easter Morning we were fortunate in hearing Marcello's Mass
in C ; but I failed to see the Ambrosian offertory, to my great
disappointment. Our last (Monday) afternoon we spent in
going by the country tram to Saronno to see the Luinis at the
pilgrimage church. On Tuesday we had a superb day and an
endless series of brilliant views all the way from Milan to Basel
. . . It would have been better for us both if we could have had
two or three quiet weeks first ; but I think we shall get all right,
and meanwhile we are able to look back with great satisfaction
on the first real Easter holidays that we have ever taken.
Now I must stop this egotistical letter. Your notes were
the greatest help, and you were constantly in our thoughts;
so that telling you a little about the trip seems part of the trip
itself. I hope you are all well at home, and enjoying the
early summer which we are having somewhat prematurely.
With our best love to your wife and all belongings — Ever
affectionately yours, F. J. A. Hort.
I
AGB 58 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 355
To Dr. C. R. Gregory
(On a post-card)
Cambridge, May i*jth^ 1886.
... I had a short visit to the Laurentiana, chiefly occupied
with am} At Lucca I remembered your wish, and (unex-
pectedly) almost succeeded in doing something. But I found
the library was removed, set out towards it, was accidentally
delayed, found a drenching impending and time absurdly short,
and so with a sad heart I had to give it up and return to Pisa.
Lucca itself is a most interesting place. At Milan I had a
good chat with Ceriani, with whom I was very glad to shake
hands in the flesh. We talked about many things. Those
were the only two visits to libraries that I succeeded in making ;
and perhaps it is as well, for I came home too tired with what
had been crammed into the fivQ weeks, and lectures coming
immediately have proved oppressive. However, I am not
getting worse, and daylight I trust is not far off.
To HIS Wife
Cambridge, ^«ffd 29/A, 1886. 11 a.m.
. . . What made me oversleep myself was naturally the
meeting. It was over in good time, before ten ; but Professor
Seeley asked me to come in and have a chat with Goldwin
Smith, which I was very particularly glad to do.
... It was a very successful and enthusiastic meeting, with
hardly any disturbance except at the end . . . Mr. Fitzgerald
got up, and said very emphatically that his first duty, " as a
mere matter of business," was to declare "that this is not
2L Tory meeting." He spoke efiectively and intelligently
himself. But the event of the evening was Goldwin Smith's
very serious and genuine address, coming with especial force
from his old position as an advanced Liberal, his admiration
for the United States, and his personal devotion to Canada.
The other speeches were short and slight.
^ Codex Amiatinus, see pp. 254-8.
356 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT ' chap, ix
To HIS Wife
Cambridge, /«it^ 30M, 1886. 9.35 P.M.
I am rejoicing in having just (last night of the month)
finished the big job for Abb^ Batiffol. Now I can get to my
own work and feel less of a galley-slave.
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, y«^ 3r</, i$S6.
. . . The Cambridge election is over, and I am thankful to
say Mr. Fitzgerald, the Unionist candidate, has come in by a
good majority. Above 50 Liberal electors belonging to the
University had put out a declaration that they intended to
oppose the Home Rule candidate; and the number would
have been doubtless much larger had not Cambridge been so
empty. Among those who signed were Professor Seeley, Dr.
Sidgwick, Mr. Sedley Taylor, Sir Rowland Wilson, Professor
Creighton, Professor Darwin, and myself.
To HIS YOUNGEST SON
Cambridge, yw/j' 3r</, i8S6l
. . . We had the election here yesterday, and Mr. Fitz-
gerald, the Unionist candidate, was elected, I am thankful to
say ; so that Cambridge has done its best to save poor Ireland
from destruction. A time like this makes me more than ever I
anxious to see my boys growing up with a spirit of justice and
public spirit and care for others, and above all with knowledge
that will help to make them wise, and especially knowledge of
history. This is one among the many reasons which make me
watch the reports so anxiously.
To THE Rev. Dr. Hatch
ASKRIGG, September iiM, 1886.
. . . Few things have been more encouraging of late than
the progress in Edinburgh University of which you speak
■
AGE 58 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 357
Despite some adverse appearances, I trust that we are not
without corresponding movements at both Oxford and Cam-
bridge ; and your words should help to give definite aim to
what are now often rather vague impulses.
In the general drift of the sermon, and in nearly all of what
you say under the first two heads, I entirely concur. On the
question of organisation I imagine that we agree more than we
differ; but some of your language is not such as I should
naturally use. I quite go with you in condemning the refusal
of fellowship with sister Churches merely because they make
no use of some element of organisation assumed to be jure
divino essential But it seems to me that the rejection of
theoretical and practical exclusiveness clears the ground for
the recognition of at least the possibility that other kinds of
(relative) yi« divinum may be brought to light by history and
experience. In organisation, as in other things, all Churches
have much, I think, to learn from each other, the Church of
England as much as any. It does not follow that organisation
ought to be everywhere identical. But it may well turn out
that there are some elements or principles of organisation which
cannot anywhere be cast aside without injury; and at all
events each Church has need to ask how far its peculiarities
may be mere gratuitous defects, not right adaptations to its
own special circumstances.
I hope you have kept tolerably well through this year. It
is pleasant to see that a book of yours is announced for early
publication by the Clarendon Press. — Believe me, very sincerely
yours, F. J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. Dr. Hatch
Abercamlais, September 22ftd, 1886.
... In the matter of Churches with different organisations
it seems to me that what we now want is, not so much a
doctrine of dBia<popia as practical tolerance and practical
brotherliness. I wish I could see my way more clearly as
to the best way of carrying it out The problem is to carry
round the great body of comparatively reasonable Anglican
358 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chlaj>. ix
feeling ; and so even Anglican prejudice and exclusive theoiy
need tender handling if their power is to be sapped. Despite
ugly appearances, I cannot give up the old hope that the
Church of England is meant to be the mediator of Christendom
rather than its via media; and, if so, it must not depreciate
anything positive in its traditions. But indeed the same may
be said of all communions. They have all much need of
development, but each from its own historical base.
I am very glad you are at work on Philo's psycholc^y.
The crude neglect of analysis of antecedents with which he is
treated in even good German books is very disappointing. —
Very truly yours, F, J. A. Hort.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, October znd^ 1886.
. . . Many thanks for the present of your book,^ which has
reached me to-day. I am very glad that others besides the
Abbey congregation and readers of the Expositor are to share
some of the lessons of Hebrews detached from the commentary.
But, whatever be the antithesis of homily v. commentary, I
believe homily would have lost immeasurably if created directly
rather than suggested through commentary ; and so it would
be of all future homily. The constraint which each exercises
on each is salutary for each.
Notwithstanding the last few years, it is hard to believe
that the Master ^ is gone. It seems but yesterday that as a
freshman I first climbed his stairs, opposite the door which a
term later was to be my own. — Ever aifectionately yours,
F. J. A Hort.
To His Wife
Cambridge, October ^rd, 1886. 5.40 p.m.
. . . Another card from the Master of Emmanuel to say
he now thinks (I wish I could think otherwise !) we must send
a Latin address to Harvard, and after the Tuesday CoU^
1 Christus Consummator,
« Dr. W. H. Thompson, Master of Trinity.
AGE 58 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 359
meeting, Messrs. Chawner and Adam and I must be a com-
mittee to write it. Poor lectures ! I seem further off from
beginning to write them than ever, though I shall have to
deliver the first on Friday week. To-morrow is Council, a.m.,
and Perse (I hope short) p.m. ; Tuesday, College meeting and
this Latin Committee; Wednesday, the funeral; probably
Thursday or Saturday, Revision ; and Friday, Press Syndicate.
Happily I am fairly well, though desperate.
By snatches I have read a good piece of Mr. Ellerton's
book,^ which thus far is very beautiful and very wise.
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
Cambridge, October ^th^ 1886.
. . . F. hopes to come home to-morrow in time for dear
old Thompson's funeral, which is to be at two at Trinity
Chapel. On our return we heard that he had had an ailing
summer. . . . Every one feels oppressed with the succession
of heavy losses that have fallen on Trinity. It is sad too how
few of the later generations have been able to know what
really was in Thompson. Who will succeed him, no one seems
able to guess. My own feeling is very strong on behalf of
Montagu Butler.
To HIS THIRD Son
Cambridge, October 30/A, 1886.
... It is curious that both the essays and the debate
should run so near together as ' fox-hunting ' and * field-sports '
do. The real good of either essay-writing or holding a debate
on such subjects is to train oneself to consider carefully and
dispassionately what can be said on both sides, starting from
the knowledge that both sides are defended by good and sensible
men. I do not at all mean that it is not well to make up one's
mind at last decisively in the one way or the other ; but that
the opinion must be a worthless one \i pains have not been
taken to do justice to the other side. It is quite news to me
1 The Holiest Manhood,
36o FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
that you have to take down the speeches, — I suppose, only
quite short summaries of them. However, it is very good
practice both in trying to catch the points of a speech, and in
expressing them neatly and clearly.
To HIS SECOND Son
Cambridge, November 13M, 1886.
. . . You must, I am sure, be profiting by what you hear
from Mr. House. My only fear is of your going over the
ground too quick. I was specially glad that the De Corona
was to be done a second time. You might learn more
Greek from making quite sure of the meaning of every word
(especially every particle !), and getting the grammar of
every sentence exactly right, than in any other single way
that I can think of. I at least think I owe more to Demos-
thenes lessons at school than to any others. Then the De
Corona is such a magnificent speech, with about the most
perfect diction in all literature; and the subject is so in-
teresting. You do not mention, I think, which books of
Thucydides you have been doing. He too in parts is very
interesting (not always), and his language is well worth master-
ing, but decidedly difficult in the speeches, and not so uni-
versally useful to have mastered as that of Demosthenes. The
Georgics and Plautus are also not bad reading, though by no
means at the same level. I am glad too that you are getting
lectures or talks on the Greek Drama and Greek influence on
Roman literature and also on Philology. They will at least
give you new ideas, and make all work more ^/izv, which is
the great thing. Whatever happens about the scholarship,
this term^s work will certainly not be thrown away.
To HIS SECOND Son
Emmanuel College, December ^fk, 1886.
. . . Just now we are occupied with Trinity proceedings,
which are pleasant and interesting, but rather interfere
with the examination work, of which my hands are full at
AGB 58 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 361
the present moment. Dr. Butler came to Dr. Luard's
on Thursday evening. I dined there to meet some of
the leading Fellows of Trinity, and your mother and Ellen
came in the evening, when there was a great gathering of
Trinity people and ladies of their families. The only person
present not connected with Trinity was Dr. Ainger, who was
staying with Mr. Howard. Yesterday morning we had brilliant
sunshine for the installation at Trinity. At twelve (or a little
after) the Master found the great gate shut and barred, and had
to knock and ask admission. He handed his royal patent to
Hoppett, who walked majestically off to carry it to the Fellows,
assembled in the Combination Room. They then marched
down to the great gate, which was re-opened, and Mr. Trotter
shook hands with Dr. Butler, and they all went off to the
Chapel for the formal admission. The rest of us were then
admitted, and the choir sang the Te Deum, In the evening
I dined at Trinity with Dr. Jacobson to meet the new Master
and the Fellows, and a certain number of Former Fellows and
Former Scholars, no other guests being present, and greatly
enjoyed it After dinner we had two most interesting speeches,
from Mr. Trotter in proposing the Master's health, and Dr.
Butler in returning thanks.
To HIS THIRD Son
Cambridge, February $fA, 1887.
... On Monday I dined with the Master of Trinity,
but in Hall, not at the Lodge, to meet Mr. Gladstone, who,
as I dare say you saw in the papers, has been paying
his nephew, Mr. Lyttelton, a visit of a couple of days at
Selwyn. In Combination Room the Master proposed his
health, and he returned it in a nice little serious speech. He
was very quiet and pleasant, and I was glad to be able to
see him so near, especially his quite wonderful eyes. Next
morning I sat next him at bre^fast at Selwyn Lodge, Mr.
Lyttelton having been kind enough to ask me to meet him,
with Professor Creighton, Professor Rirkpatrick, and Mr.
Stanton. Mrs. Gladstone was also there.
362 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, ix
To HIS YOUNGEST DAUGHTER
Hotel Montanvert, Cuamouni,
Jttnt 2^rd, 1887.
. . . Now we are daily longing greatly for newspapers
with some account of Tuesday's doings in London and all
over England. We cannot, I fear, hear anything before
mid -day on Saturday, unless (which is not impossible)
the Chamouni chaplain remembers our isolation and sends
us up his Morning Post by breakfast-time. I have been
wishing too late that I had asked the London newsagent to
send me one of Tuesday's evening papers, which might have
reached me to-morrow. Thanks to the chaplain's kindness,
we were able to have our service in the Archbishop's form on
Tuesday morning, and much did we think of the memorable
day. It was practically fine here, and so we trust it was aU
over England, Ireland, and Scotland. Mamma and I are
sitting out now on a rocky hillside overhanging the glacier.
Two little patches of snow are close at hand, and the sodden
turf forming a wide margin to them, and showing where the
snow still was only two or three days ago, has little Soldanellas
growing in it. The slope below is clothed with rhododendron
bushes, and will be a brilliant sight when the buds have
burst. . . .
I was just wondering whether mamma had written home
about our last day at Cxcneva, and she tells me she thinks not
We had a very interesting morning. We first climbed up to
the famous old Cathedral of St Pierre, and went into it It
is of stately good architecture, partly Romanesque, pardy
Gothic, without having any very special features. But the
great interest was historical, as the place where many striking
incidents took place in the sixteenth century, and where Calvin
himself long preached. We saw his chair and the sounding-
board of his pulpit. Then we went on to the promenade
called the Treille, on the old ramparts, whence there is a
superb view, first of the Botanic Garden below and the
suburbs, and then of the range of the Salfeve bounding the
view to the south. We went down through the pretty Botanic
\
AGE 59 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 363
Gardens to the Library in the University building, and were
allowed to spend some time in the sallCy where various interesting
MSS. and early books are exhibited, and where there is a
peculiarly interesting set of portraits, chiefly connected with the
Reformers — mainly of the sixteenth and (in part) seventeenth
centuries. In the afternoon I went alone to the old cemetery
of Plainpalais, a well-kept and quietly impressive cemetery, to
see once more (after thirty-three years) the plain little stone
with the letters J. C. marking Calvin's grave. By his own
wish no monument was erected. He was one of the greatest
of men, and a very good man too ; with a little more charitable-
ness and self-distrust he would have been one of the best of
men. Few men have left a deeper mark on the world after
them, partly for evil, but also greatly for good.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, /m^ 24M, 1887.
My dear Westcott — It is more than time to send you a
word of hearty thanks for the new book^ which I found
awaiting me here. I have much of it still to read, I am glad
to think, but what I have already read makes me very hope-
ful about the fruit that it may bear ; nor can I think that the
impression produced by a living and timely utterance of one's
own strongest and clearest convictions is, in this case, a
beguiling impression.
It was grievous work to be absent from England at the
time of the Jubilee. It was bad enough to think of before-
hand, but, as the time approached, it was difficult to refrain
from starting off home without delay. But the accounts which
reached us were very cheering as well as interesting, and one
cannot but feel that we have been passing through an event
with wide and deep results. I long to hear what came before
you in the Abbey on the day, and at Westminster before and
after. We three (Miss Blunt being with us) had our Jubilee
services at the Montanvert, but there was no one else there to
share them with.
1 Social Aspects of Christianity,
364 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap- ix
Jubilee apart, we had a pleasant and successful time. . . .
On the way home we slept at Bourg en Bresse, to see the
Church of Brou, spent two nights at Autun, two more (with
Sunday) at Bourges, and one at Amiens (instead of Paris).
All was restful and abounding in interest.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, September z^rd^ 1887.
. . . The position ^ is very perplexing. First, as regards
the Regius Chair. Of course what you have said from time
to time since Lightfoot left us has compelled me long ago
to try to think what might be possible and best if that un-
speakably dreaded contingency of a vacancy should happen.
But I have never been able to see anything like daylight.
My one qualification is that I might hope to keep the
Cambridge tradition unbroken, and be at least an obstacle
to attempts, or unconscious tendencies, to divide ra. Beta from
Tol dvOfxairrjia. But not for a moment have I been able to
think it possible that there would not be a woeful downward
drop in the life and power of the post, and the disablement
arising from an overpowering sense of the fact itself and of
men's sense of it Along with this has been the conviction of
sheer bodily and mental inability to carry on anything like all
the various forms of work at Cambridge which are now
associated with the post. Apart from other difficulties, the
mere fact that I am constitutionally so much slower in
work and in counsel would render it hopeless for me to attempt
to carry on what you can now barely accomplish by an ex-
cessive strain.
To THE Rev. Dr. Westcott
Cambridge, September zjih^ 1887.
My dear Westcott — Your letter was of course decisive It
is a great help in thinking of the responsibilities of the future,
as well as the present possible or probable contest, to know
that the attitude of the younger men is so much more than
acquiescence in your and Lightfoot's judgment.
1 With regard to the vacant Lady Margaret Professorship.
AGE 59 CAMBRIDGE : HULSEAN PROFESSOR 365
To HIS YOUNGEST SON
Cambridge, October ^rdy 1887.
Dearest Fred — I must send you at once one happy line to
wish you all joy on being at the top.^ Last week's letter gave
me a sort of feeling as to what was coming, though I said
nothing to anybody, and now it has come. Now for holding
fast to the top ! English soldiers, you know, are always famous
for what is called * solidity,* that is, for quietly holding an to
what has been given them to hold. It needs tougher qualities
than carrying a post by a rush ; but I know you have it in you
to do it.
To HIS YOUNGEST SON
Cambridge, October 22nd, 18S7.
. . . The printed circular which I sent to you yesterday
will have told you that Dr. Luckock is no longer a candidate
for the Lady Margaret's Professorship. Unless therefore
some other candidate should come forward in the meanwhile,
which is not at all probable, I shall, if all goes well, be elected
on Wednesday next It is the oldest Professorship in the
University, and has been held by many distinguished men.
Dr. Lightfoot held it before Dr. Swainson ; and before his
election he was Hulsean professor, as I am, so that I shall
be exactly following in his steps.
To His YOUNGEST SON
Cambridge, December ^rd, 1887.
. . . Here in Cambridge we are all in sore anxiety about
Mr. Trotter, who, after having long been out of health, has
now become very seriously ill, and is hardly expected to live.
He is one of the most valued friends whom I have left in Cam-
bridge, and it is difficult to say too much of the good which
he has done for the University and for Trinity.
^ Of his form at Marlborough.
366 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap, a
To THE Rev. John Ellerton
[About December ^Srd, 1887.J
. . . Apart from the loss of Swainson, the vacancy was
most unwelcome to me. I much preferred to remain in
the less conspicuous office, and shrank beyond measure from
asking to be promoted. It is always weighing on my mind
that want of leisure and freedom from arrears of work ha?e
hitherto kept me from speaking my mind on great matters in
print, and it is hateful to owe anything to even the most in-
voluntary reticence. Then it was impossible to avoid suspicion
of ambition, if not of greediness (the Lady Margaret income, as
it is now, being ludicrously exaggerated in general estimation).
[Further explanation of the reasons for candidature follows, but the
letter is incomplete, and, indeed, was apparently never sent.]
CHAPTER X
CAMBRIDGE: LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR
1 887- 1 892. Age 59-64.
HORT spent the Easter of 1888 at Rome with his wife,
and paid also short visits to Genoa, Orvieto, and
Assisi. It was his first and only visit to Rome. He
did as usual a prodigious amount of sight-seeing, pay-
ing impartial attention to classical and Christian
antiquities, mediaeval and modern art. He had had
all his life a great longing to see Rome, but it was a
desire always qualified by the feeling that he did not
know enough, which feeling was strongly present with
him when he actually went there. His eagerness for
the first sight of the city, as the train approached, was
fresh as an intelligent boy's ; he rushed from side to
side of the carriage to catch each glimpse as it came
into view ; he left with a longing frequently renewed
to return. On such occasions he carried a formidable
array of guide-books, and artistic and archaeological
literature in various languages ; his travelling library
also frequently included a careful selection of books of
more general interest ; among his most frequent com-
panions were volumes of Browning and Ruskin, every
line of whose works he possessed.
In June he journeyed to Ireland, to receive an
368 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
honorary LL.D. degree from Dublin University, a
most welcome and pleasant honour. He took the
opportunity of re-visiting everything in Dublin whid
was connected with his childhood ; this was his first
visit to Ireland since he had left it as a boy of nine,
but his recollections were marvellously fresh (see
vol. i. p. s).
Two summers later he received an honorary D.C-L
degree from Durham University, and in 1 891 was obliged
to decline a like honour from Oxford, where a short
time before a wish had been expressed that he should
examine in the theological schools. This recognition
was one which he would have very highly valued, and
he was willing to make a great effort even in feeble
health in order to receive it But the risk was too
great, and in the following year, the last of his life,
when the offer was renewed, he was again unable to
make the necessary journey and stand the necessary
fatigue.
In these last years indeed recognition of his work
came abundantly, and in the only form in which he
set any value on it More than ever before he was
consulted by younger men, to whom he gave generous
guidance and encouragement in their work. Indeed
in the last two years of his life, when broken health
confined him largely to a sofa, he was perhaps more
accessible than in his more active days.
Among the younger workers in the same fields of
study there had grown up, as Professor Armitage
Robinson says, a " kind of cult." " There was doubt-
less," he adds, " an occasional exaggeration in our talk
about him. But he had so seldom failed us, that we
felt as if he really knew everything. Of the obscurest
book we said, * Dr. Hort is sure to have it ' : of the
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 369
most perplexing problem, * Dr. Hort knows the solution,
if he would only tell ' ; of any subject, ' Dr. Hort will
tell you all the literature/ And indeed nothing seemed
to have escaped him that had been done in any branch
of theological research." But the help which he gave
was not always of the kind which the inquirer ex-
pected ; though he would sacrifice hours to provide a
younger scholar with a list of references which no one
else could supply, he would rarely provide him with a
ready-made opinion. " He seemed to regard," says
Professor Robinson, " the formation of opinion as a very
sacred thing ; he refused to prejudice by arguing with
one who was beginning the study of a subject" For
instance, when he was asked to recommend the best
books for the study of the synoptic problem, he replied,
*' I should advise you to take your Greek Testament,
and get your own view of the facts first of all."
His foreign correspondence was considerable; he was
in frequent communication with Hamack, Zahn, Schiirer,
Gregory, Ezra Abbott, and other scholars in Germany,
Holland, and America. He used to say with a smile
that his work was better known on the continent and
in America than at home. Among American scholars
particularly his name was surprisingly familiar, and
they lost no opportunity of expressing their veneration
for him. Once on a steamer between Corfu and
Brindisi I met an American professor ; when he heard
the word * Cambridge ' dropped in conversation by one
of our party, he broke in eagerly with, " Are you from
Cambridge ? Do you then know Dr. Hort ? " I made
my name known to him, and he talked enthusiastically
of my father for the rest of the evening.
On December 20th, 1889, Bishop Lightfoot died;
some months before he had apparently rallied from a
VOL. II 2 B
370 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
dangerous illness, and his friends had begun to hope
again. Hort had been allowed to visit his sickroom at
Bournemouth in January 1888, and could not then
persuade himself that he was looking at a dying maa
But the rally was only temporary, and at the end of
1889 the first gap in the triumvirate was made. Light-
foot's funeral, at which Hort was one of the chief
mourners, was a most impressive ceremony ; not least
impressive was the moment when Hort and Westcott
stood in the chapel of Auckland Castle, looking tc^;ether
into the open grave of the youngest of * the three/ and
the first to be removed. It was altogether a trying year ;
in May Dr. William Wright had died at Cambridge,
another scholar of congenial habits and tastes ; and about
the same time Cambridge society mourned the loss of
Mrs. Luard, a very dear friend and neighbour of the Horts ;
her husband. Dr. H. R. Luard, the Registrar, survived
her only two years.
Hort suffered also much distress from the growing
feeling that on the highest debated questions of the
time he had something to say, but could not say it.
His depth of learning and width of thought and
sympathy had given him a position from which he
could speak with almost unique authority ; but im-
portant controversies raged, and he still stood apart
Yet he bitterly reproached himself for his silence ; his
still unpublished Hulsean Lectures were hitherto his
only deliverance on the fundamental problems for which
he cared most, and speech had now become even more
difficult to him than at the beginning of his Cambridge
life. Among those who knew him best there had long
been a feeling that he ought to make his voice heard,
and the consciousness that the claim was a just one
caused often deep depression. In July 1889 Dr. W.
\
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 371
Sanday, in an article in the Contemporary Review^
appealed to him, not for the first time, to break silence ;
he compared him to Achilles in his tent, and called on
him to come down to the battle. The public appeal,
which was backed up by an earnest private letter,
touched him nearly. With bitter pain and tears he
sought to vindicate himself in a pathetic letter, part
only of which is preserved. His enforced reticence was
the more regrettable that it was likely to give a wrong
impression ; it might appear that he too in matters of
faith still halted between two opinions, and it would be
easy to misunderstand without further knowledge of
his mental character the attitude of a man who would
never close his mind against new light, and was content
in some things to acquiesce in a temporary suspension
of judgment But how misleading any such hasty
inferences from his silence would be has been shown
now by the publication of his Hulsean Lectures, which,
though they had not received his final imprimatur^ yet
declare with no uncertain voice how openness of mind
could coexist with an unshaken grasp of central truths.
These lectures themselves waited so long because he
felt that, with advanced experience, he could and must
enlarge the scope which he had originally given them ;
they give his mind, but not his whole nor his latest
mind.
Less than a year after Dr. Sanday's appeal came an
opportunity of speech which he could not disregard.
On May ist, 1890, Dr. Westcott was consecrated as
Bishop Lightfoot's successor ; his invitation to Hort to
preach the sermon in Westminster Abbey on that
occasion was considered and reconsidered during an
Easter vacation tour with his wife to Venice, Padua,
Verona, and Brescia. On this tour he entered with no
372 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
flagging of enthusiasm into all that he saw, and especially
studied with the most minute care the works of the
early Venetian school and of Tintoret But all the
time he suffered from unwonted weakness and weari-
ness, and was oppressed with the thought of Dr.*
Westcott's invitation. He longed to accept so attract-
ive an offer, yet shrank from the effort. At last the
responsibility of refusal seemed too great ; in the
course of a beautiful da5^s excursion to Torcello he
decided provisionally on a text, but the final decision
was only arrived at on Easter Day, as he sat on a
hill above Brescia To any one unacquainted with
the constitutional difficulty which hampered him in
sermon-writing, so much deliberation about the natural
request of a friend of forty years' standing must seem
excessive, but it was in fact a supreme effort, and
he felt it to be such, and accepted with fuU
knowledge of the probable consequences. He had
approved of Dr. Westcott's acceptance of the bishopric,
but his approval was costly to himself; his friend's
departure left him isolated at Cambridge, and in a
leading position, as senior theological professor, which
he had never coveted. Perhaps he felt it on that
account only more incumbent on him to give counsel
which did violence to his own inclination and interest
The consecration was fixed for May ist ; he sat up
over his sermon nearly the whole night of April 29th,
as well as several nights before, went up to London by
the last train on the 30th, working all the way whDc
candles were held for him, and was up nearly all of
that night also. Yet, when the time came, his nerve
was good and his voice strong, and the heavy re-
sponsibility, which had nearly crushed him during the
preparation, seemed only to add force to his utterance.
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 373
The sermon itself was long and yet compressed ; in fact
the first part of it is a condensed summary of the
lectures on the Christian Ecclesia, which he was at the
time delivering at Cambridge. Closely packed as were
the thoughts expressed in it, those who heard it could
not mistake the preacher's main purpose, and those who
read it afterwards found much to stimulate thought in
this presentation of a ** large and progressive faith,"
which seemed as widely removed from ordinary dog-
matism as dogmatism itself from negation ; they could
only regret that the sermon was not expanded into a
volume, developing the fruitful ideas which it shadowed
forth. The burden is the application of the teaching
of St. Paul in the most universal of his writings, the
Epistle to the Ephesians, to the needs of the modem
world. The revival of the sense of church membership,
with all the manifold consequences, which would follow
from the real acceptance of a principle never yet fully
grasped, might seem to some to have a far-off sound ;
but the aspiration was justified for the preacher by his
appreciation of the important acquisitions of modem
knowledge, and especially of the desire never manifested
till quite recent times to read the Apostolical writings
" in the light of the personal and historical circumstances
out of which they sprang." His theology has a quality
too often wanting in the systems of leamed men ; it is
in touch with the world of men, as well as with the
world of books. It is possible that some of the con-
gregation were surprised to hear, not the sermon of a
recluse, but of a man whose ears had been open to all
the manifold voices of the age. Its message had a
peculiar appropriateness to the " friend of forty years,"
who had himself so assiduously pleaded for the ' social
interpretation of the Gospel.' Its concluding words
374 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
were a quotation from Dr. Westcott's own sermon,
preached eleven years before at Dr. Lightfoot's con-
secration to the same see.
May 1st was a day of great happiness, but it left its
mark ; the strain of preparation contributed to the
breakdown of an already enfeebled constitution. At
first the effects were not obvious. A few days later
he enjoyed a performance at Cambridge of Gluck's
Orpheus^ and at the beginning of June listened with
the most vigorous interest to the expositions of all
the candidates for the Regius Professorship, vacated by
Dr. Westcott's removal. On the 23 rd he journeyed to
Durham to receive an honorary D.C.L. degree, and
stayed afterwards with the new occupant of Auckland
Castle, a most interesting visit He was one of Bishop
Lightfoot's literary executors, and his advice was of
course most valuable to those who were engaged in
bringing out the late bishop's unpublished works. At
the end of July he went to Switzerland with his second
son, selecting for his perch the new Schwarzsee Hotel,
above Zermatt, 8500 feet above the sea. He had a
well-founded opinion of the value to his health of very
high altitudes. This year his heart was probably not
strong enough to stand such high air, but he persisted
with the experiment till September ist, and was almost
the last to be driven down by the snow to Zermatt
It is probable that his boldness this summer, together
with an unfortunate fall, which he had on the way out
at the top of the Gemmi, hindered rather than helped
his recovery from a feeble condition of health.
On November 2nd a fortnight of indefinite feeling
of illness culminated in an acute heart attack combined
with pleurisy. He was forced to take to his bed, and
stayed there till November 22nd, and was unable to
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 375
get downstairs to his study till January 24th of the
next year. He was well aware how serious was his
condition, and throughout his illness calmly studied the
symptoms of his disorder. The beginning of the break-
down probably dated from a slight but persistent attack
of influenza early in the year, which came upon him
when he was much overdone with work, and greatly
depressed with the thought of losing Dr. Westcott from
Cambridge. There were intervals of apparent recovery,
and his own hope was scarcely dimmed by constant
attacks of more or less serious illness. To those who
watched him these two years were a wonderful ex-
perience. His intellectual interest seemed to grow
keener, as his bodily powers declined. At first no
actual work was allowed. But he read incessantly,
seizing this opportunity to devour books for which at
ordinary times it would have been diflicult to find
leisure. J. H. Newman's Letters he specially enjoyed,
and the other recent volumes bearing on the history of
the Oxford Movement He examined to the very last
the parcels of books, English and foreign, which un-
ceasingly poured in. Indeed the amount of miscellaneous
literature for which he at all times found or made
leisure was very remarkable. He always read while
dressing and undressing, and in this way got through
such solid books as Mr. S. R. Gardiner's on the English
history of the seventeenth century.
He often complained of a bad memory ; it was
indeed true that he had not a memory like Macaulay's
or Conington's, but he knew where to look for required
information, and could at a moment's notice turn to
the right passages in the right books. Nor could his
memory be called bad in any save a relative sense ; the
knowledge which he had acquired seemed always to
376 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
be ready at hand. I can remember, for instance, his
giving in the course of conversation a clear twenty
minutes' sketch of the history of the Scotch Established
Church and of its offshoots.
For part of the last two years of life, which were
spent in a half- invalid condition, he was unable to
lecture, and Mr. F. Wallis acted as his substitute for
nearly a year. After October 1891 he lectured again,
although rarely able to walk to the Divinity SchooL
Anxiety about the performance of his official duties
weighed heavily on him, and he struggled to accomplish
all, and more than all, that he was capable of. During
his illness the meetings of the Apocrypha Revision
committee and Septuagint committee were held at his
house. The subjects of his lectures as Lady Margaret
Professor were *Judaistic Christianity' (continued), St.
James again, * Early Conceptions and Early History of
the Christian Ecclesia,' The Epistles to the Seven
Churches, The Epistle to the Ephesians, The First
Epistle to Timothy. He also shortly before his break-
down in 1890 g^ve a course of six popular lectures at
the Cambridge Clergy Training School on the ante-
Nicene Fathers from Clement to Origen.
His professional lecture-room was naturally not very
popular with undergraduates ; he dealt usually with
rather advanced subjects, and his methods hardly sub-
served the needs of examinations. The term was gener-
ally nearly over before he had got beyond the outskirts
of his subject, since his Prolegomena took nothing for
granted. But among senior men there were several who
came even from a distance, and those who attended him
regularly were fascinated in a quite peculiar way ; there
was an almost unique quality in his lecturing, which
exercised a kind of spell over the more thoughtful
r
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 377
listeners. One of these in a character sketch con-
tributed to the Cambridge Review^ as one of a series of,
for the most part rather flippant, * Letters to Lecturers,'
gives a very perceptive description of him as he
appeared to a disciple : " There is something mysterious
about those lectures. I do not think there is any one
in Cambridge whose lectures are so utterly simple as
yours are ; language, ideas, reasoning, everything is
simple in them. One does not at the time always feel
that there is any particular depth in what you are
saying, and yet, when the hour is over, and the note-
book is shut, and we are out in our silly world again,
we find that at least one point you have been telling us
about has become a sort of living creature in our minds,
has made itself a home in us, and will not leave ofl*
talking to us. The one childishly simple idea runs
on in a whole * chain of beautiful thoughts ' that illustrate
and explain everything we come across for days and
months."
The article throughout is a striking proof of the
charm which a retiring student's presence could exercise
over some at least in modern Cambridge. " The grace
of scrupulous courtesy," says the writer, " and the free
restraint of chivalry is not yet forgotten even in the
damp flat wilderness, and the Lady Margaret Professor
of Divinity is our link with the gentle life of the past.
Why is there no Rembrandt among us to paint that keen,
spare face with the grey hair that looks white beneath
the black skull-cap, and the scholar's beard, and the
knightly nose and forehead, all lit up by that wonderful
grace that only hard work and a kind of self-forgetting
asceticism lends ? "
The following extract from a letter from Miss Julia
Wedgwood vividly recalls some characteristics of the
378 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
lecturer's manner, although the impressions are those of
a reader, not of a listener : —
ii
It was quite wonderful to me, in reading * Judaistic Chris- }
tianity,' to find such a vivid renewal oi personal impressions in
words so remote from anything personal, I had never, you
know, heard him lecture, but his voice seemed \x\. my ears at
every word I seemed to hear the peculiar inflections, the
little pause as if waiting for some nuance of expression suited to
a special meaning, and then that touch of eagerness, as it wne
of hurry, which bore out that sense of ideas seeking words,
not words ideas, and which always somehow brought to me
the feeling of youth. I sometimes laid down the book with
a sense of surprise that it could revive so much, for it was not
cognate with any subject we had happened to discuss together ;
but that careful, scrupulous accuracy which one always fdt
in any discussion with him is so marked in it that I feel his
very hesitations, and confessions of perplexity, throw more
light on the sacred page than the fluent certainties of most
commentators. One reads such words as his, and wonders
that one needs them to show what is in those which one has
read blindly all one's life.
A good idea of the scope and method of his later
lectures is thus given by the Rev. J. O. F, Murray : —
These lectures in many cases did not get beyond a careful
and complete introduction, worked out at first hand from the
original sources, and including a series of short, clear, delicate
— ^sometimes almost playful — ^appreciations of the works of his
predecessors in the same field ... As an expositor he bad
an unique power of taking a phrase to pieces, and tracing the
whole course of the history of each of its significant parts, first
singly, and then in combination with one another. Having
thus helped his class to an understanding of the wealth of
association that had gathered round each phrase by the time
that the author came to use it, he would then replace them in
their context, and it was often surprising to note the richness
of meaning which this truly ' historical method ' of treatment
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 379
brought to light in passages that might otherwise have been
passed over as commonplace and unimportant.
Another distinguishing characteristic of his treatment
of early Christian writings is indicated by Professor
W. M. Ramsay {Expositor^ January 1893). It is that
he did not study those writings in isolation, but looked
at them in their environment, ue, that he " avoided
distortion " in his conception of them by having " a
vivid and accurate conception of the Roman world as
a whole." That this was the only satisfactory method
of handling either Church History or the * profane '
history in which it is set, he had seen when he first
marked out for himself the investigation of the early
Christian centuries (see vol. L pp. 233-4).
To complete the picture of him as he appeared to
' his pupils, I may add a sentence written by one of his
class : " The bowed head covered with his hands, as
we sat waiting for the commencement of his lecture,
made us feel that we trod with him on sacred ground ;
and his whole bearing was at all times that of one who
realised a Higher Presence."
This personal sketch may fittingly be supplemented
by a few sentences written of him after his death by two
friends, one resident at Cambridge, the other a casual
visitor. Professor Ryle thus pictures him in Cambridge
and in his study : —
The familiar sight of the man with the quick nervous step,
the left arm folded across books and papers, the right swinging
vigorously across the body as he hurried down Tnimpington
Street past Peterhouse and the Pitt Press to St Mary's, or to
some meeting in the Divinity School, or as he rounded at
full pace some buttress of books in the University Library,
clings to the memory ; or again, as he starts up from his chair
where he is sitting before his papers and at his books, and
38o FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
comes out from behind the great revolving bookcase with the
cheery welcome and the warm clasp of the hand ; you see
him before you, the wonderful blue eye piercing keenly beneath
the penthouse of bushy brow, the worn emaciated cheek, the
noble forehead ; you hear the bright glee of his merriment,
you catch the tremendous energy of his purpose in all he says,
his noble loyalty to his friends, the noble scorn of meanness.
Dr. Milligan thus recalls a visit to 6 St. Peter's
Terrace : —
Let me turn once more to the man, to his noble, pure^
loving nature, full of a childlike joy in his friends, and yet so
humble and simple that he never thought how he was com-
municating happiness to them. He thought only that they
were communicating happiness to him. And, as on a spring
or summer day, he would in that garden or under those tiees,
behind his house in Cambridge, hasten from one spot to
another to try and bring some little additional comfort to his
guests, it was sometimes almost painful to be so served by
one to whom the guests could not help feeling it would have
been far more fitting in them to render service.
The shyness, which sometimes came over him in
company, wore off in his own house. At meals he
was seldom silent or preoccupied, in spite of the
urgent work which made those intervals all too short
Even in his study he was never so engrossed that
he would not put all books aside at a moment's
notice to attend to a visitor seeking literary help, or
have a talk with one of his children, or discuss the right
sum to be given as Christmas box to the postman. His
work was incessant, but human interests were always
foremost, and he was never abstracted from the world
of ordinary affairs. He was never by choice a recluse
or an ascetic : " A man," he once said, " who professes
himself indifferent to a good dinner is either a liar or a
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 381
fool." His conversation abounded in such trenchant
pieces of criticism, levelled generally at some form of
insincerity or make-believe of knowledge.
While he was laid up in 1 891, he sat for his portrait
to Mr. Jacomb Hood, who had been commissioned by
the Master and Fellows to paint him for the Em-
manuel Combination Room. Perhaps at another time
he would hardly have had patience to submit to this
ordeal. As it was, the process interested him greatly.
Often the effort to sit was great in his weak state, but
he cheerfully exerted himself to give all possible help
to the artist and to give the best possible to the College.
The portrait is a most interesting and successful present-
ation. Copies from it, or from another most vigorous
picture painted immediately after and presented by the
College to Mrs. Hort, are hung in the hall of Trinity
College, in the library of the Divinity School, and at
Rugby.
This was a year of weakness and depression. At
Easter he went for three weeks to West Malvern, but
was scarcely able to walk at all, and suffered from the
least exertion ; other experiments at Cromer, and in
the summer at Ilkley, were hardly more successful. In
the autumn there was some slight increase of strength ;
at Ilkley he had been able to go to church for the first
time for ten months, and in the October term he was
lecturing again for the first time since his illness. In
this term the compulsory ' Greek question ' came up
again ; he was unable to vote with the reforming party,
though the reasons for his conservatism were not the
motives which inspired a good deal of the opposition to
the proposed change. His views, which were not
lightly formed, nor without considerable sympathy with
the other side, are given in a letter in answer to a
382 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORX chap.
request which I sent him for enlightenment on the
subject He was moved almost to tears by an eloquent
appeal * for Greek ' by Mr. W. Bateson, a rising* Cam-
bridge biologist
The affairs of the Cambridge Mission to Delhi were
also pressing. In this, as in other matters, he had
become, by Dr. Westcott's departure, the leading* con-
sulting authority at Cambridge.
In this autumn he got through a great deal of work,
though it was an effort to sit up in a chair, and be
could sometimes scarcely lift the ponderous folios which
lay on his table ; he felt indeed that he did himself some
harm in this way. At Ilkley, and afterwards at home,
he gave many weeks to a minute study of Mr. J. Rendel
Harris' book on the Codex Bezae, from the conclusions
of which he widely dissented. His own views, in so far
as he had expressed any on this actual question, were
inadequately apprehended by Mr. Harris, for a reason
which is not far to seek. A more recent writer ^ on the
same obscure subject says : " We suspect that it will
have been the experience of many others besides our-
selves that, although they may beg^n by differing from
that eminent scholar, they often end by agreeing with
him, the reason being that his published opinions fre-
quently rest upon facts and arguments which are not
fully stated, but which the inquirer discovers for him-
self painfully by degrees." The particular point at
issue is too technical for these pages, but it may be
worth mentioning that Mr. Chase's book, the main con-
tention of which is adverse to Mr. Harris' conclusions,
ends with these words : " I would fain find an indication
that my work may prove a starting-point for further
* F. H. Chase, The old Syriac Ektnctu in the Text of Codex Beu,
Macmillan, 1893.
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 383
investigation of the early history of the text of the New
Testament in the fact that, in its final stage, it is merged
in the well-considered conclusions of one ^ who speaks
with authority, conclusions which are the re-statement
in a more definite form of an opinion expressed by Dr.
Hort" Mr. Harris' book seemed to Hort to demand
an answer ; he had promised a notice of it for the
Classical RevieWy and was greatly concerned that he
was unable to write it He would not publish any
criticism which did less than full justice to an opponent.
The following provisional criticism, contained in a
private letter, shows both parties to the controversy in a
pleasant light : " It was very considerate of Mr. R.
Harris to wish to adjourn publication to a time perhaps
more convenient for myself to read his book. But this
would have been quite unreasonable, and it was certainly
right to let the book come out when it was ready. It
will take some time to go over the ground by inches,
and I cannot at present give all the time to it that I
could wish. I have, however, run hastily over the whole,
and examined a fair number of the details that had a
comparatively promising look. As yet, however, I re-
main profoundly sceptical as to, I believe, all his lead-
ing positions. It is a pity that he does not allow himself
time to think of more than one theoretical possibility at
once."
From November 1890 onwards he was never able
to walk more than a very short distance ; he drove out
frequently by way of exercise, and greatly enjoyed
what was to him an unusual method of progression.
At Christmas 1891 he was better than at any other
1 The authority alluded to is the author of a review of Mr. R. Harris'
study of Codex Bezse, which appeared in the Guardian of May i8th and
May 25th, 1892.
384 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chap.
time during his illness. On Christmas Day he was able
to attend Holy Communion at Great St. Mary's, the
last time that he joined in this service with all his
family. Soon after this a chill brought back the
trouble ; he became very weak, and began to consider
what strong measures could be taken to secure an in-
crease of strength during the summer months. In
January 1892 Professor Adams and Sir George Paget
died, and a little later Miss Clough. The death-roll c^
valued Cambridge friends had been heavy in the last
two or three years. In March he was again confined
to his room, then there was another rally, then another
collapse ; then, at the end of April, he was strong
enough to lecture, or at all events he did so, fw
once consenting to read old lectures. He took the
familiar subject, i Peter, for this, which proved to be
his last, course. It was delivered with astonishing
vigour and strength of voice ; the lecturer's face, worn
with illness, yet reflecting, as it seemed, even more than
before of spiritual and intellectual vitality, made a last-
ing impression on those who heard him. At the end
of May he was able to get up to London for a few days;
he wished to consult Sir W. Broadbent, and, when in
town, he was well enough to submit to being photo-
graphed,^ and even went to see one or two pictures at
the New Gallery, being specially anxious to see a fine
portrait of Mr. J. M. Wilson. On his return home he
made up his mind to take Sir W. Broadbent's advice,
which, bold though it was, seemed to offer a last hope
of recovery, and inspired him with new life. He was
recommended once more to try the effects of Alpine
air, the well-tried tonic of so many years. His adviser
^ The portxait prefixed to vol. i. is from a photograph taken at this
time.
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 385
did not suggest very high altitudes, but, after trying in
vain to reconcile himself to something under 5000 feet,
he at length determined to ascend by slow stages to
real glacier air. The place selected was Saas-F^, in
a valley which had always specially attracted him.
About ten days before leaving home he took part,
for the last time as it proved, in a University function,
from which he would have been very reluctant to absent
himself. This was the installation of the Duke of
Devonshire as Chancellor of the University, and the
conferment of honorary degrees by him.
On June 2 3rd he left home ; the journey was a
source of great anxiety beforehand, but difficulties
disappeared, and, after a pleasant rest at Berne, and an
easy journey up the Rhone valley, crowded for him
with old associations, he arrived in the Saasthal in
improved spirits and apparently none the worse other-
wise. He paused for some days at Saas-im-Grund,
where, in the pretty wooden pavilion half out of doors
in front of the hotel, he worked incessantly for Dr.
Gregory at his Prolegomena to the eighth edition of
Tischendorfs Greek Testament He could only work
in a recumbent position, but enjoyed meanwhile the
pleasant view of the hillside through the unglazed
windows of the pavilion, and the daily bouquet of
Alpine flowers on the table at his side. He did not
reach Saas-Fte, his ultimate destination, till July 7th.
There too the experiment seemed at first to be a
wonderful success ; he picked up strength in a way
for which he had hardly dared to hope. Recovery
seemed for the moment nearer than at any other
period of his illness. The weather was glorious,
and the unique mountain view was a constant refresh-
ment after his invalid life at home. At first he was
VOL. II 2 c
386 FENTON JOHN ANTHONY HORT chaf.
even able to walk on Sundays to the English Church
close by. Most of the day was spent on the roof of
the porch of the hotel, on to which the window of his
room opened. Here the amphitheatre of the Miscfa-
abelhomer lay straight before him as he sat reading
under an improvised awning of umbrellas and sheets,
the daily erection of which greatly amused the other
visitors, who sometimes delayed starting on their
expeditions *to see Dr. Hort come out' Twice he
attempted to get beyond the hotels, and was carried to
the foot of the glacier, and up the slope of a steep hilL
But the effort proved too great, and hopes were once
again delusive. At the end of July there came a
relapse, due perhaps to the height above the sea, in
spite of first appearances to the contrary. For many
days he was unable to go beyond his room. Whenever
he was strong enough, he was writing or reading. His
principal work during the early part of his stay at
Saas-F^ was the writing of notes for Dr. Moulton on
the reserved passages of Wisdom for the Apocr3^1ia
Revision. He had hoped to write here his article on
Lightfoot for the Dictionary of English Biography ^ but
was obliged to defer it. He wrote also a very large
number of elaborate letters on the choice of candidates
for an appointment in which he was officially interested
He could on leaving home have delegated his duties as
an elector, but he preferred to go into the whole
business himself. When not up to work, he amused
himself with novels, and became enthusiastic over
Stevenson's Treasure Island and Mr. Barrie's IM^
Minister, Many friends were admitted to see him,
and on all sides he received marks of wonderful kind-
ness and thoughtfulness. A lady friend of Mrs. Hort's
had come out with them, and in August their eldest
J
X CAMBRIDGE : LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR 387
son joined the party. On August 6th he made a last
efTort, and was present at the consecration of the new
English Church ; he had been one of the first contributors
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